


Of Green Skin and Sharp Teeth

by Nukawin



Series: IZ - The Misadventures of Zim and Dib [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen, Gore, Profanity, Slap-stick kinda violence, Violence, but also actual violence, why not both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22823659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nukawin/pseuds/Nukawin
Summary: While trying to juggle college life, family matters, and keep tabs on a delinquent alien insect, Dib takes it upon himself to investigate reports of a Mythical Beast.
Relationships: ZADF - Relationship
Series: IZ - The Misadventures of Zim and Dib [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640788
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	1. Pre-Story Memo

Hey all! This is my first time posting on AO3. I usually just lurk about, reading fics and making the odd comment. 

This also happens to be my first Invader Zim fan-fiction.  
I just wanna go over some things before we get into the story. 

This is a ZADF fanfiction. Feel free to interpret otherwise (I'm too emotionally depressed to care lol).  
I slacked on descriptions, so the run down is Dib is in his mid/late teens, he's male (sexuality is undetermined), and puberty made him into a walking tower. Zim hasn't changed at all, because I think that's both hilarious and adorable.  
Fic takes place post-Florpus (ETF was awesome!).  
There's quite a bit of slap-stick violence, especially between Zim and Dib, because while I love the idea of them being buddies - I refuse to believe they can manage one week WITHOUT having at least a few fights. 

The fic itself is 100% complete, and I did my best to proof-read it, making minor alterations and correcting some grammar hiccups. I am in no way a writer though, I dabble in this medium for fun. I'm more of an illustrator, but I don't have the patience to make comics so... Have some mediocre fanfiction!

Feel free to critique (note that I'm in the UK so I'm probably mixing up UK/US spellings). Characters may be a little-to-alot OOC (I apologise for this).  
Also, if you're gonna repost, at least have the common sense to credit me as the writer (or link back to the original fic) - Don't be a dick. 

On that note, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!


	2. Eves Dropping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib gains two missions in one day, and Zim gets a flying lesson.

College life was exhausting.

As if it wasn't enough that he had to meet deadlines with his coursework, get to his part-time job at the local PC repair store (despite his love for technology, said part time job was not as fun as he'd first expected), and meet the expectations of his scientist father.

He had to deal with _Zim_.

Dib Membrane originally thought his future would go down one of two paths. He would either die at the hands of the Irken Invader, or he would finally expose the cretin to humanity, and earn the respect he rightfully deserved.

Fate surprised him with a third path, and proceeded to unceremoniously punt him down it.

Dib realised that the dream of exposing Zim was never gonna bear fruit, the moment the new President was elected.

Humanity literally voted for a broken dishwasher as their president. He denied it to himself for years, but the reality of humanity's stupidity finally shattered his defences and left the young man with such a headache that he begged Zim to put him in some sort of coma just to escape for a while.

The alien threw a shoe at his head instead, then cackled about how he couldn't have missed even if he had tried, because Dibs head was absolutely enormous.

Fast forward a few years, and for some messed up reason that Dib still couldn't find answers to, the dishwasher had won it's re-election and became President again. So while he had stopped trying to expose Zim (he _refused_ to admit he'd given up), Dib didn't stop thwarting Zims diabolical plans. Though as the years rolled on, he noticed that said plans became less about world conquest and more about just to ruin some poor souls day – Usually his.

So the alien went from trying to dominate the world, to pulling pranks that, in some alarming circumstances, resulted in a fatality or two... Or several. Dib did his best to prevent deaths, but he wasn't a miracle worker.

When he announced he was moving out, so he could be closer to College (it was an hour away from the Membrane home, damn it), he was given a send off with his dad reminding him to pursue real science, his sister Gaz' apathetic “Meh”, and Clembrane shoving a suitcase dribbling with pudding into the trunk of his car.

He knew he wouldn't be able to keep tabs on Zim, so he passed down his duties to Gaz, though a shred of him knew she wasn't going to do shit about Zim, but he allowed himself to believe otherwise because he needed to hold onto _something_ that would give him reason to continue dealing with life.

The trip to his dorm was uneventful. For once his reputation worked in his favour, because no one wanted to share a dorm with him, so he had one all to himself. Yeah, it would be lonely, but loneliness was better than being taunted for his reputation, or having his possessions stolen or abused.

Of course THAT was wrapped up in a blanket and thrown into a bin, which was promptly kicked down a rocky hill, the moment Dib walked into his dorm and found Zim waiting for him.

The Irken had tampered with the registration in the college system, adding himself as a student, and then made himself at home in Dibs dorm. Why? He had several reasons apparently, ranging from wanting to make Dibs life hell even more (most likely), to making sure Dib didn't have ulterior motives for moving so far from home (such as exposing Zim from a safe distance). Zim convinced himself that should the grease-pit that was Dib try to reveal Zim to the world, then he was close enough to pull the humans guts from his stomach and strangle him with them.

Dibs response to the unwanted squatter was to grab the tiny green fucker and throw him out the window of the dorm, which was four floors off the ground.

Of course when Zim came climbing back through the window for the eighth time Dib finally gave up trying to get rid of him, calling him a relentless cockroach that apparently didn't take fall damage.

During their first year of college together the two grew to accept each other's company enough to consider their alliance ''Frienemies''. Dib still found himself having to step in with Zims activities, all of which so far had been varying ways to cause harm to the other students for no real reasons other than “they stink”. Of course a handful had, at first, attempted to bully Zim because of his 'disabilities', but the bullying quickly ceased when the first few mysteriously ended up needing oxygen tanks for the rest of their lives. After that rumours rolled around the college that Zim was a spiteful leprechaun that cursed anyone who crossed him, resulting in students avoiding him.

-

Drool dribbled from his mouth, and was absorbed by the pillow it pooled on. Slow, deep snores were the only sounds in the room, the young man blissfully unaware of the world beyond his unconscious state.

“Mm...no... No, thats _my_ shopping cart!...” Dib's brows creased in agitation as he argued within his dreams.

A tiny metallic hand reached up and poked him on the nose. It poked again three more times before the human responded by dragging his arm out from under a pillow and waving away whatever was bugging him.

There was a giggle. Then the poking started again.

Dib groaned, and buried his face in the pillow.

The poking began again, this time at his right ear. He shrugged his shoulder, trying to shoo away the nuisance.

“Mary...” A sharp voice whispered.

Nothing.

“...Mary....” The voice repeated, volume raised slightly.

“Mmmph...” Dib answered, muffled by the pillow.

“Mary...” The voice said.

“M'names not Mary...” Dib replied, voice thick with sleep.

It was silent for a minute, then Dib's ear drums were brutally assaulted by a scream.

“WAKE UP MARY! WAKEY WAKEY!!”

The human naturally recoiled, his body curling in on itself as he desperately tried to smother the ear piercing screams with the pillow.

GIR pulled himself onto the bed and begun to jump up and down on the cowering form under the blanket. “WAKE UP MARY! WAKE UP MARY! WAKE UP MARY!”

In retaliation Dib kicked out, his leg making a connection with the robot and sending the demented little machine flying into a wall with such force the wall cracked. GIR fell to the floor and lay motionless for a moment, before he bounced onto his feet and ran back to the bed.

“DO THAT AGAIN!” He demanded, pulling at the blankets.

“Go away GIR! I have to get up at eight in the morning!” Dib hissed, turning his back to the Irken robot.

“IT IS EIGHT!” GIR announced.

Dib shot up from the bed, “WHAT?!” He threw a panicked look at the dresser beside the bed. “Wh-WHERES MY PHONE?!”

“Oh! It's battery was dead, so I'm recharging it in the microwave!” GIR replied.

“YOU WH-”

A bang rattled through the entire dorm, several other rooms opening doors to peer down the hall with nervous curiosity at the source, watching as black smoke seeped out from under the door.

Dib stumbled out into the hall from the smoking mess that was his room, clad only in sweatpants, waving his arms to dispel the smoke, as he fought off a coughing fit.

Not far behind him, Zim (in his _perfect_ disguise) also came running out, hacking and spluttering. He turned towards GIR,who was now wearing his little dog costume, stained by the smoke.

“GIR! YOU BLEW UP THE MICROWAVE! WHAT ON IRK WERE YOU THINKING?!” Zim screamed.

“I wasn't thinking.” GIR replied. “I was waking Mary!”

“Dude your robot blew up the microwave AND MY PHONE!” Dib sneered, glaring at Zim.

“Don't you have an exam to attend?” Zim asked, glaring at the human. Dib faltered.

“SHIT! I'm late!!”

Ignoring the smoke, Dib bolted back into the room. He was gone for a few minutes before re-emerging, wearing his trench coat and carrying a back pack full of books. Throwing it over his shoulder, he didn't give Zim or GIR anymore attention, choosing to run as fast as his legs could carry him down the hall.

Zim and GIR watched him vanish, before Zim turned and spoke. “GIR, this is your mess. Clean it!”

GIR saluted with a flash of red, before throwing himself out of a window. He suddenly came back with a fire hydrant.

“BATH TIME!” He screamed, then ran into the room with the fire hydrant.

There was a pause, before GIR could be heard screaming at the fire hydrant.

“THE RED MINION IS BROKEN!!!”

-

Dib burst through the door to the classroom, and was met with silent stares from the professor and his fellow classmates. He swallowed nervously.

“S-Sorry Sir, I-”

“Save it.” The Professor snapped, “I don't care for the reasons, just get to your seat and sh-shut up.”

Dib rushed over to his seat.

The Professor handed him a copy of the exams papers, then returned to his desk. He was an old man, tall and thin, almost frail looking. His greyish blue hair was wild and uncared for, balding at the back of his head. Despite his fragile appearance, the man was anything but. He sat back in the chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk, then reached into his lab coat and pulled out a flask, taking several swigs from it.

“Is drinking allowed?” Dib asked.

“No. Being late to an exam isn't allowed either b* _BELCH_ *ut I'm not busting your balls over that, _Membrane._ ” The Professor bit back.

Dib scowled and quickly resumed working.

“Professor Sanchez, I've finished my exam..” A student spoke up.

“If you were expecting praise you're in the wrong classroom. Drop it in the stack and get the fuck out of my sight.”

“You could be a little nicer to us...” Another student commented.

“You could be a little _quieter_.” The Professor threatened. His glare made the out-spoken student shrink back in submission.

Dib sighed internally as he worked through the exam paper. Friday wasn't starting off well for him.

-

Zim found the human sitting in the mess hall of the college, head lying on the table. He slammed his fist on the surface, tearing Dib from semi-consciousness.

“Huh! Whu-” He looked about frantically before noticing Zim, then narrowed his eyes. “Do you mind?”

“Zim does mind, actually!” The Irken scolded, “The cafeteria is for the gruel that your kind have the _audacity_ to call food.”

Dib rubbed his eyes, “What's your point?”

“Take your recreational activities to your private quarters!”

“Wha-! Sleep isn't recreational, it's-Wait, I was sleeping?”

“You certainly were not doing anything else.”

Dib groaned. His head fell to the table top once more. He leaned it to one side, so he could look at Zim, “Why are you here anyway? Don't you have exams?”

“HAH!” Zim scoffed, “I _had_ exams, but the Lecturer did not show. So I left. I've more important things to be doing.”

“Like?”

Dib flinched back when the small alien jabbed an accusing finger in his face, screaming, “THINGS YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY COMPREHEND, DIB-STINK!”

The room fell silent as everyone turned to raise eyebrows in question at the outburst. Both Zim and Dib cast glances around at their audience, before Zim whirled around on them, “RESUME YOUR LIVES BEFORE ZIM CURSES YOU ALL!!”

Everyone quickly averted their eyes in fear of the leprechauns curses.

Triumphant, the Irken folded his arms and pouted.

“You know they think you're a leprechaun, right?”

“I considered the alternatives and have come to accept this false proclamation. So far the results have been more amusing than I had anticipated.”

“Do you even know what a curse is?”

“OF COURSE!” Zim boasted proudly, “There is; Fuck; Bastard; Cunt; Bitch-”

Dib gaped at him, “That's not what I mean by curses!” He paused, then admitted, “Also it's pretty weird to hear you cussing. You've never done it before.”

Zim ignored the admission, “If profanity is not what you meant, then explain yourself!” He demanded.

“You'd like that wouldn't you?” Dib countered, “Well guess what. I'm not going to.”

He was about to get up and leave before he overheard a student in the table behind them.

“-werewolf was seen the other night!”

Dib froze, his mind immediately filtering out everything around him so he could narrow down on this one conversation.

“You sure they didn't see a big dog?”

“I don't know, I'm just telling you what I heard on the radio in the car this morning!” The girl replied to her friend, “It's so stupid what they come out with on the radio now-a-days. I miss when they used to talk about celebrity drama, but now all they bitch about is global warming.”

Dib cringed at their ignorance.

“Anyway,” She continued, “Apparently some guy was bitten by this “ _werewolf_ ” and he's now in hospital getting treatment. He was probably doped out of his head and got bitten by one of those rat looking dogs. Chee-Wah-Wahs?”

Dib was suddenly slapped across the face, snapping his attention away from the conversation and back towards the Irken standing on the table in front of him.

“What the hell Zim?!”

“SILENCE!” Zim ordered, “You dare accuse me of bearing a lack of knowledge on curses, you refuse to explain yourself when I demanded it, then you proceed to sit there and _ignore me_ , and now you have the fortitude to get angry at _ME?_ ”

“You slapped me in the face!”

“Zim tried to get your attention with less, slappy, ways. I called your name, I poked your shoulder, I even removed your ocular enhancements!”

Dib blinked, only now noticing his glasses were missing. “Wait, what... How-...Where-”

Zim waved them in front of him, but when Dib reached for them he pulled back. “Zim proposes a trade.”

“Dib counter-proposes with a threat; My fist in your face if you don't gimme back my fucking glasses.” Dib hissed.

Zim smiled, “As if you'd win in that fight.” He swung the glasses around on his finger, “All I ask is that you tell me what I want to know. I will return the inferior eye enhancements to you once you have fulfilled my demand.”

“Jesus Christ Zim, this isn't like black-mailing with my laptop or an embarrassing photo that you have yet to tell me how you acquired... I am _literally blind_ without my glasses!”

“All the more reason to deliver, then.”

“Honestly I'd swear you were fucking getting off to this shit.” Dib hissed.

Zim frowned, “You were not exaggerating the blindness. I am not getting off anything, I am still on top of this table.”

“That's not-Ugh... Fine!” The human relented, “The curse I was referring to is like a spell, or a supernatural wish, usually bestowing misfortune or suffering onto someone the caster considers deserving. I have old spell tomes back at home in the attic, I used one on Gaz once. It did not go well.”

Zim considered this information for a moment, “Your litter-mate seemed fine last I saw her.”

“We managed to lift the curse, so obviously she's fine now, but to this day I'm still regretting using that spell tome on her.”

Zim handed the glasses over, “Originally I was going to throw them away and then laugh at your pitiful attempt to retrieve them once I had gotten my demand, but I'm satisfied knowing that you continue to live in fear of a female litter-mate who is younger and smaller than yourself.”

“You're such an asshole, Zim.” Dib hissed, putting his glasses back on, then turning to glare at the Irken, “And you're terrified of Gaz too!”

“YOU RECITE LIES TOLD TO YOU BY YOUR FALSE LEADERS!!!!” Zim countered furiously. He then quickly noticed the cautious glances surrounding the pair, “DOES ZIM HAVE TO START CURSING!?”

Everyone quickly looked away again.

Zim noticed Dib was leaving, “And where do you think you're going?!”

“I'm going hunting for a werewolf.”

-

As soon as college ended, Dib made his way to the nearest mobile phone shop to purchase yet another replacement. He picked the same model he had went with just a month ago, and as soon as it was set and ready to go, he dialled a number.

The other end of the line was answered with a booming voice, “How did you get this number?”

“Dad, it's me, Dib.”

“SON!” Dib's father gushed with joy, “I haven't heard from you since Monday!”

“Yeah sorry, I was buried under a lot of revision, and then my _dorm-mate_ decided to release eighty headless chickens into the college.” Dib growled, recollecting the reason for his exhaustion. Zim disappeared as soon as the college heads came onto the scene, and Dib was landed with cleaning duty which kept him up for over twenty-four hours. Apparently chickens were a lot faster without their heads, and feathers caked with dried blood was not easy to clean out of lockers. No wonder he was exhausted.

“Interesting college prank...” Membrane mused, and Dib knew the man was rubbing his chin in contemplation, “Your dorm-mate is the little foreign friend you had in school, correct?”

“Yes,” Dib answered, “He's the _alien_ I told you about.”

Membrane sighed, “Now son, I'm sure he came into this country legally.”

“What?” Dib asked, “No-”

“Why are you calling from a strange number, Dib?” Membrane suddenly asked, changing the subject.

“Oh... Zim's dog blew up my phone, I had to buy a new one.”

“Not scientifically possible.” Membrane argued, “Dogs are not naturally explosive, I should know, I've tested the theory.”

“No, I mean he put my phone in the microwave to charge it.”

“Well then, he's a good boy for trying to help! Though perhaps he needs further training, microwaves are full of radiation and do not make good charging stations!”

Dib sighed. Sometimes it was impossible to believe this man, his father, was a world famous Professor.

He decided to get to the point of his phone call, “Listen, Dad, I need a favor.”

“Is it for science?”

“Well... yes?”

“That answer did not sound very honest.” Membrane asked, becoming suspicious.

“No no, it's genuine... it's just... maybe not for the science _you're_ thinking of...”

Dib heard his father's weary sigh.

“I have a feeling I know where this is going.” Membrane spoke, “What kind of favour are you needing my assistance with? Because if it's raising corpses again-!!” He got angry.

“NO! No necromancy!” Dib quickly answered.

“Oh!”

“I need access to a patient in a hospital, I want to interview them, but since I'm not family, the staff won't just let anyone in. I was hoping you could, ya'know, _persuade_ them into letting me see the guy."

“You want to visit someone in a hospital?”

“I've reason to believe they were attacked by a werewolf, and I want to interview them about it. Perhaps view their injuries to confirm my suspicions. That's all.”

“Son, we both know werewolves only exist in movies. Unless you are referring to wear wolves, in which case some groups in our society frown upon wearing real animal fur.”

“Dad,” Dib groaned, frustrated, “SOMEDAY I will be able to prove it to you. I don't know when, but I'm sure that eventually I will have a breakthrough. Look, can you help me or not?"

“Will you be breaking in if I say no?”

“Yes.”

Membrane sighed, “Very well. I will allow this foolish pursuit, in exchange, I want you to actually do some REAL science while you are in that hospital.”

“What?” Dib asked.

“It has come to my attention,” Membrane said, looking at the computer screen in his office, browsing through the hospital records, “That another patient in the hospital that your friend is in, has contracted an infection that to date has no cure. Now, I've already concocted a cure in my magnificent brain, however, for getting you access into the hospital's patients ward, I want _you_ to create a cure, and give it to them.”

“You're testing me?”

“If I have to keep putting up with your non-science pursuits, the least you can do is some real science in exchange.”

Dib frowned, “Fair enough, I guess?”

“Excellent! Now, I have contacted the hospital and arranged that you be given unlimited access for the duration of your visit. I have also prepared them for your assistance with the infection, information of which will be available to you on request, as well as the necessary items you may need to cure it. I would prefer you deal with that first, then you will be free to interview your friend.”

“Umm, I don't even know the guy... but yeah, okay. I'll see what I can do.” Dib wasn't feeling overly confident. His expertises lay in the unexplained, he wasn't so sure about chemistry, and he was nowhere near qualified to be a first aider, let alone a doctor.

“Wonderful! Good luck, son! Now, I must go before my secretary's intern mistakenly consumes acid again!”

“ _Mistakenly?!_ ” Dib asked.

“Oh, Smithers was assisting Grant with something, he placed an unlabelled jar of acid down for a moment, and the foolish boy that is my secretary's intern mistook it for water and drank it! We've been able to rebuild his tongue with stem cells and donated tissue from his cheek lining, but his oesophagus' replacement is still in development. He's heavily sedated and keeps writing down notes about how his mouth is burning and he needs water to cool it!”

“Don't you think a medically induced coma would be best?” Dib asked, concerned.

“We did consider this, however for science we're keeping him awake. Don't worry son, he's in no pain! The burning in his mouth could be compared to having consumed spicy food!”

“Umm... Okay... Well... I'm gonna, I'm gonna go to the hospital now and uh, cure that one guys infection, and maybe interview the other guy about the werewolf...”

“Aah yes, at this rate we are keeping each other back from our duties! Call me when you have cured the patient, good luck and remember son, I love you, despite your crazy shenanigans!”

“Yeah, I love you too dad.”

The line went dead, and Dib looked at his phone with concern. How the hell was he gonna make a cure for an infection that was currently incurable?

“Blegh.” A voice scoffed in disgust. Dib released an unmanly yelp (bordering a scream), before turning to glare at Zim.

“How long have you been standing there?!”

“I've been here this whole time, idiot!” Zim defended, “We were returning to the resting quarters, before you said something about buying a new mobile cellular device, and I _regretfully_ accompanied you here! Had I known you would waste my time talking to The Membrane figure I would have saved myself the torture and returned to the dorm alone!”

Dib glared at him, “Fine, whatever! Just don't go dropping guinea pigs from the forth floor again! They don't bounce!”

“Then why are they round?!”

“Because evolution can be a bitch at times, I don't know! Just don't bounce tiny defenceless animals off of buildings! Find something less sociopathic to entertain yourself with! Call your Tallest or whatever!”

Zim bristled at the mention of his Tallests, “As if I haven't been trying. So far my messages have gone unanswered!”

“Maybe they're ignoring you.”

“Nonsense! They are likely very busy, they do have an empire to lead! I am sure they will find the time to reply eventually!” The Irken replied.

“Suppose they flew directly into that florpus hole that you made, remember back when you nearly killed us all?” Dib asked.

“Bah! Even if that were true, no _florpus hole_ could beat the unstoppable force that is the Massive and the Irken Armada!”

Rolling his eyes, Dib started walking, “Whatever. Look, I gotta go to the hospital and cure some guy, then interview another about the werewolf. Don't bounce rodents off of buildings, that's all I'm asking!”

“Cure?” Zim asked, then ran after Dib. Curse him and his growth spurt and those lanky fucking legs that forced Zim to run just to keep up pace. “What are you curing? And slow down before I sever your legs from their connection to your body!!”

Dib slowed down his pace a bit, “I don't have time for this slow walking, Zim! I asked my dad to help me gain access to the hospital so I can interview the guy that was bitten. And my dad decided that in return he wanted me to cure some other guy of an infection that doesn't have a cure.”

“I can help!”

“HAH!” Dib scoffed, “You? Help me cure this infection?”

“NO!” Zim spat. He then used his PAK legs to propel himself onto Dib's back pack, and stood on top of it while it remained on the young man's back. “Now mush! Or whatever!”

“There is no fucking way I am carrying you!” Dib argued, stopping and trying to shake the Irken off his back. To his surprise, Zim wasn't easy to remove. “Will you get the fuck off my back pack! You're gonna wreck my coursework!

“I have assisted you with the problem of this slow walking. You may continue at your frustratingly brisk pace towards the medical facility, and tell Zim about this incurable infection.”

“Why do you want to know about the infection?”

“I want to know if it can be weaponized.”

Zim realised that being honest about his reasons was not his best idea, because not only did Dib finally manage to dislodge him from his back, but Dib added insult to injury by grabbing Zim and throwing him off a bridge.


	3. Dismemberment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim performs a half-assed autopsy and Dib gets hit on.

The pair soon stepped through the hospital doors, both battered and bloodied. Zim was dusty from the river bed under the bridge, which was (thankfully) completely dried up. He was still incredibly bruised and tender, limping slightly on his left hip, which bore the brunt of his landing. He had got Dib back for it though, because the human's face sported a very painful looking black eye, the right lense of his glasses were cracked. His cheek had a clear print of a shoe (Zim kicked him in the face), and below his nose had dry blood.

The secretary behind the till glanced up, then did a double take, her mouth falling open.

“Oh my gosh, let me get the doctor-”

“No no, it's okay.” Dib explained, “We're fine. Listen, my name is Dib Membrane, my father contacted you-”

“Oh yes!” The receptionist cautiously sat down at her desk again. She had to take Dib's word for it that they were okay, even though both men looked anything but. She glanced down at Zim, who was glancing around, silently seething.

“And he is...?”

“A tiny green bastard.” Dib answered, which immediately earned him a punch in the crotch.

As the human tower crumbled in agony, Zim leapt onto the reception counter.

“I AM ZIM!” He screamed dramatically, then pointed at Dib, who was writhing on the floor, holding his wounded groin. “And THAT pathetic whimpering mess is in need of serious medical attention!”

The woman looked down at Dib from over the counter, “You both look like you need to see the doctor...”

“My wounds are superficial and bear me no suffering!” Zim excused, “Him, however! He needs a new brain! Zim demands you send him in for immediate surgery to replace it!!”

“I do not need surgery!” Dib snapped back, pulling himself to his feet. His knees buckled from the pain in his groin, but he forced himself to stand. “Look, Miss...” He trailed off, “I'm here to interview a guy, and maybe cure another guy....”

The secretary looked at the tall man, then at the green dwarf standing on her counter. If the interactions between the two suggested anything, it was they had been fighting each other, and not ambushed together, which was what she had first assumed.

“Listen, I don't know if you guys are friends or lovers fighting-”

“Lovers?!” Dib blanched, “I don't even like Zim!”

“The only thing I _love_ is watching the dirt-child SUFFER!” Zim added.

“Whatever. You both don't want medical help, that's fine. However, I can't let you into the hospital if you are going to keep fighting each other. You might end up breaking expensive equipment.”

“That's fair enough. Zim, you can piss off back to the dorm. I've got work to do.”

“HAH! You can't get rid of Zim that easily!” Zim hissed.

Dib looked at the secretary, “You may need to call security to remove him.”

“Oh, we don't have security.”

“You what?” Both males looked at her in surprise.

“Due to lack of funding, we've had to cut back on some things. Security was one of our cutbacks, as well as lunch breaks.”

“So you guys are working round the clock with no break?!”

“Yeah.” The secretary shrugged, “We eat on the job now. A lot of government funding has been redirected to the president for repairs.”

“Oh my God.” Dib sighed, “I can't even with this planet anymore.”

Zim was giggling, “And apparently I don't have to do anything. You are quite literally sentencing yourselves to doom. That slithering old crone, Bitters, was right!”

“Ms Bitters, the school teacher?” The secretary asked.

“...Yes?” Zim answered.

“She's my _mother_.” The secretary finished.

“YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THE SLITHERING, HISSING SHADOW BEAST HAS REPRODUCED?!”

Dib watched in silent fear as Zim was thrown from the hospital by the secretary. She turned her attention to Dib, who raised his hands in surrender. “I'll just go do what I came here to do then leave, Ms Bitters was a great teacher and I will always be in debt to her for the wonderful years she served at our school!”

He bolted down the corridor of the hospital, towards the patients ward.

-

When Dib found the ward, he was approached by the doctor over-seeing the infected patient, and agreed to follow her to where the patient was being kept. Along the way, the doctor provided what she knew about the affliction, which, unfortunately to Dib, was about as good as not knowing anything. His father already had a cure in mind, so there was _something_ that stood out, all Dib had to do was find what that was, and work from there.

The doctor stopped outside a quarantine unit, turning to Dib as she gestured to a full body suit.

“Due to the risk of contamination, we need to wear protection. You can place your backpack and coat over there.” She pointed at a corner near an over-stacked desk.

After dropping off his possessions and pulling on one of the suits, he followed the equally-protected doctor through a sealed hall. Mist sprayed from several ports lining the walls inside, cleansing the pair of outside impurities, then they stepped into the room where the patient lay, connected to various machines.

The unconscious man was a deathly pale green colour, his features so badly sunken in, that his eyes looked as though they no longer existed inside their sockets. He was horrifically emaciated, and yet the steady beep of the heart monitor was the only thing to prove he was alive at all.

Lifting a clipboard from the end of the bed, the doctor handed it to Dib, “He was found behind a mall a few days ago, by a janitor. We have _yet_ to identify him because for some bizarre reason, he has no paper trail. It's almost like the guy just dropped out of the sky.”

Dib narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “No one recognise him?”

She shook her head, “We can barely make out what nationality he is, he's so wasted away and discoloured.”

Studying the notes, Dib nodded to her, “Okay. I will be straight with you, I don't know what I can do, but I'm going to try everything in my power to help. I need to make a call for a moment, please excuse me.”

Handing her back the clip board, Dib stepped out of the room. After repeating the short trip through the misting hall, Dib located a quiet room, threw back the hood of his protective suit, and shuffled about inside the suit until his left arm slipped from the over-sized sleeve. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialled another number.

The call was answered after just one ring.

“WHO IS THIS?!”

“It's-”

“WHO IS THIS?!?”

“Zim! IT-”

“WHO IS THIS?!?!”

“DIB!”

“DIB?!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Yes, it's Dib!”

“HOW DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER!?”

“I'll tell you if you come to my location.” Dib replied.

He hung up and waited, and a minute later, the little Irken was knocking on the window from the outside of the building. Dib opened it to let him in.

“Now tell Zim how you got that number!”

“GIR.”

Zim hissed, “ONE JOB, GIR! ONE STINKING JOB!” He turned to glare at Dib, “And no I'm not going to ask why you called because Zim does not care!” He approached the window to leave.

“Have you been abducting people again?” Dib demanded.

“Heh?!”

“The man in that room has no identity! No one knows who he is, where he came from, or even what language he speaks He was found behind the mall a few days ago. Did you have anything to do with his sudden appearance? Did you kidnap someone from another country and dump them here?!”

Zim bared his teeth, furious at the accusations. “YOU DARE ACCUSE ZIM OF THIS?!”

“Until you can _prove_ you have had no involvement!”

“Even if I could prove it – WHICH I CAN – You are so delusional that you would not believe the raw honesty of Zim anyway!” Zim stomped past Dib and approached the room.

“Wait, where are you going?!”

“As offended as I am to be wrongly accused of such slander, my curiosity must be sated, so I will not leave until I have seen for myself-”

“You can't just go in there, Zim! It's quarantine!”

“Obviously!” Zim replied, waving at the PVC tent guarding the doorway.

Before Dib could argue more, he watched as Zim's PAK opened up, extending two prongs that laid flat on the floor. Zim stood between them, and the prongs lit up with a dull pink light. They begun their ascend, and as they gained height, a thin material begun to weave itself over Zim's form, covering him from the ends of his fingers and boots to his neck in a skin tight pink suit. The prongs retracted into his PAK, which then released a bubble that engulfed his head, completing his own version of a hazmat suit.

“Whoa!” Dib gaped.

“Yes yes, marvel at the ingenuity that is Irken technology!” Zim pouted. He turned and marched into the room, before Dib shook himself from his daze, threw the hood of his own suit back on, and followed.

The pair re-entered the room, where the doctor was waiting. She immediately locked eyes on Zim, and begun to protest.

“Wait, he's not authorised-”

“He's with me. I erh... needed a second opinion?”

The doctor raised her eyebrows at Dib. “Does he have a medical license?"

“I was a scientist for a time, yes, now begone with you!” Zim interrupted, attempting to shoo the doctor from the room.

“Hey, you can't just make me leave!”

“Zim can and Zim will unless you want this to get ugly!”

Dib swiped the disguised Irken off his feet and turned him away from the doctor, smiling nervously and fighting against the enraged struggling in his arms. “Eheh... He's erh... weird about strangers. Can we have ten minutes alone with the patient?”

The doctor huffed, “Fine! But don't think I won't be mentioning this to Professor Membrane.”

Dib kept his hold on the wriggling menace until the doctor was out of the room. Then he threw his arms open, dropping Zim on his ass.

“Lay your filthy hands on me again, human, and there won't even be a MEMORY of your existence when I am through with you!!”

“It was either that or have the doctor call in Bitters Junior!” Dib defended, watching the alien shudder in disgust.

Glaring at Dib once more, Zim turned back towards the patient on the bed. An arm extended from his PAK and hovered over the sickly human, casting a light on his prone form. As quickly as it had appeared, the arm retreated into the PAK, and Zim turned towards Dib.

“Why is the Dib examining a corpse?” Zim questioned, baffled by the situation.

“He's not dead yet Zim! I know he looks close to it but he's still alive!”

“No, this human is literally dead. Deceased. Decomposing as we speak.” Zim replied.

Dib pointed at the beeping heart monitor. “That's reading his pulse. You don't have a pulse when you are dead, Zim! If he was dead that'd be flat lining right now!”

Zim studied the machine for a moment, “Electrical discharges from the body could be feeding miss-information. This man died roughly six hours ago.”

Dib approached the machine, checking its connections. “He's not dead!”

Zim folded his arms, frowning at him. “Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?”

The human paused, looking doubtful. He glanced at the doorway for a moment, before hesitantly turning off the heart monitor. He turned it back on and looked at the reading.

“He _is_ dead...” Dib swallowed, “I don't... understand... My dad wanted me to _cure_ him! I can't cure death!”

Overwhelmed with the development, Dib rushed out of the room and back into the room he had stepped into earlier. Throwing the hood of the suit off once more, the young man paced the floor, as his mind try to understand what had happened.

Zim stepped into the room after him, watching him with a rare silence.

“What will you do?”

The Irken's voice was so unusually soft that Dib almost missed the question. He swallowed nervously.

“I... I need to call my dad, and tell him I failed.”

“Failure?” Zim asked, “You can't fail when you didn't get to make an attempt to begin with! Foolish monkey!”

“Look, can you go and make yourself useful or something? Go disconnect the body or something.” Dib snapped, putting the mobile to his ear as it begun ringing down the line.

He ignored Zim as the aforementioned alien disappeared behind the PVC tent, ranting about how Dib did not have the authority to be giving him such orders. It wasn't long until Dib's anxiety spiked at the sound of his father's voice.

“Dib! You're calling much sooner than I anticipated! Have you cured the patient, and did you remember to record your methods for study?” Membrane asked, eager to hear his son's progress.

“Umm.. Well...” Dib stalled, “The patient... died. Six or more hours ago...”

There was silence from the other end of the phone.

“Dib,” Membrane's tone was warning, “We talked about this dark humour you've become fond of.”

“No, no, I'm very serious about this, Dad. The guy's been dead for hours.”

“Impossible.” Membrane countered, “His vitals were stable when I looked at them earlier.”

“They were picking up on electrical discharges coming off of his body... He's definitely dead. The heart monitor was producing misreadings, it might be faulty.”

“Well, this is unacceptable...”

Dib choked, “Dad, I'm really sorry...”

“Son,” Membrane spoke, “I don't blame you. I admit I am disappointed and confused by the development, but I know this was beyond your control. I will send a team to replace the heart monitor, and recover the corpse.”

“But I failed you.”

“You can't fail when you didn't get a chance to try, to begin with. Listen, I will be home later this evening, we can talk more then. I will see you then!”

“Bye, Dad...”

The phone went dead, and Dib's arm dropped to his side as he stared ahead at nothing in particular. He had yet again disappointed his father, and his eyes swelled with unshed tears of shame. He swallowed, because now wasn't the time for crying. He still had an interview to do.

He lifted his phone and flipped on the camera, switching to the ''selfie'' mode, and used that as a mirror to ensure he didn't look as bad as he felt.

Confident that his inner turmoil hadn't broken the surface, he threw the hood of the suit on, once more, and stepped into the room.

He froze as soon as his eyes landed on the horror unfolding before him.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ZIM?!”

Zim was standing on the bed with a bone saw in his hands, and was half way sawing off an arm. He stopped cutting when he heard Dib's scream, and looked at him.

“You told me to disconnect the corpse! I'm disconnecting the corpse!!” Zim defended.

“NO! No no no NO NO NO! NO! You put that fucking saw back where ever you found it, and you start reattaching those body parts!” Dib ordered, storming over to the bed to face Zim.

“YOU SAID DISCONNECT! ZIM IS DISCONNECTING!!”

“I MEANT DISCONNECT THE MACHINES FROM THE BODY, NOT CUT OFF HIS FUCKING LIMBS!!” Dib screamed back at him, “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, MY DAD IS SENDING PEOPLE TO COLLECT THE BODY!”

“Well then Zim has made transport more convenient for them!” Zim scoffed sarcastically.

“NO MORE CUTTING!”

Zim tore the bone saw from the partly severed arm, “FINE! Zim will cease cutting but I am NOT reattaching dead limbs to a dead body! It is a waste of time, they will only end up incinerated!”

Dib glared at him, “One of these days I'm going to fucking kill you.”

-

Before he left, Dib had raced about the quarantine room, making a poor attempt to cover up the Irkens handiwork. It was easy enough to reposition the limbs and cover the entire cadaver with a sheet (he _was_ dead), but it left dealing with the lingering smell of burning bone and exposed deep tissue, and _oh God_ , all the blood. He managed to wipe most of the surfaces, but there was little he could do about the sheets, so he had to arrange it in a way that he hoped the doctor wouldn't notice, upon her return.

Where was she anyway?

Deciding he'd done his best with damage control, Dib left the room. He quickly penned a note to the doctor, asking her to call him when she returned. What he had to say was too long for a post-it. Removing the biohazard suit, he washed his hands vigorously, gathered his trench coat and back pack, then went in search of the werewolf's victim. His wide strides echoing down the hall of the hospital corridors were accompanied by the _pit pit pit_ of a lighter set of feet.

“NOW where are you going, Dib-stink?”

“To interview the man bitten by the werewolf!” Dib replied.

“You _haven't_ done that yet?!” Zim spat.

“I had to prioritise one issue over the other. Not by choice, but that hardly matters now. Why are you even following me anyway, if you're so fed up with me?”

“Zim is bored! Okay?” Zim threw his tiny arms into the air in exasperation, “GIR and I were forced to vacate the private quarters for a time by Earths Fire Enforcement drones, until they have authorised access again.”

“Wait,” Dib stopped in his tracks, “The fire department kicked us out of our dorm?!”

Zim shrugged.

“Oh my God. This day just keeps finding new ways to shit on me!”

“Ew.” The Irken gagged.

“Did they at least say when we'll be able to go back?”

“Zim recalls something mentioned. Perhaps a few hours. I believe they are investigating the explosion.”

Dib smirked.

“What?”

“There's a sort of silver lining here. They'll probably come across all your little projects, and when they do-”

He didn't get to finish that sentence, because Zim quite literally yelped in panic, and bolted down a corridor, shoving an elderly patient down a flight of stairs in his haste. Several staff members ran down the stairs after said patient.

Dib frowned in frustration at the actions, but decided it was something that needed to be discussed later. He resumed his journey back to the patient ward, and found the very same doctor that had lead him to quarantine earlier.

“Oh,” She spoke up, “I take it you're done with the quarantine zone?”

“I am,” Dib answered, “But unfortunately, the patient was already deceased.”

“What? Impossible!”

“That's what I thought, but further investigation revealed the heart monitor was giving a false reading. My... colleague... confirmed the time of death to be around seven hours ago.”

She sighed, “Christ, what a pity...” She then cast a glance to both of Dib's sides, noting the green dwarf human was missing. “...Where is your colleague?”

“Oh, he was called upon again and had to dash. Don't worry, we prepared the corpse for transport. My father is sending a team to collect it and the malfunctioning heart monitor.” Dib explained.

“Fair enough. I take it you're here now to interview the guy bitten by the dog? Can I ask why? It's not exactly that interesting, dog bites happen all the time.”

“I'm investigating claims that this particular case involved a werewolf.”

She gawked at Dib.

“A werewolf?”

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. Umm... You're not on anything are you?”

Dib glared at her, “No!”

“Because if you are I'm gonna have to ask you to le-”

“I get it! You all think I'm insane because of the things I believe in! I'm clean though! The closest I've come to drugs of any kind is a joint or two shared with my sister.”

“Medication?”

Dib gestured to his injuries from his earlier fight with Zim, “Sometimes pain relief. Nothing heavy, and nothing that causes hallucinations!”

She looked uncertain.

“Do I have to make a phone call?” Dib threatened.

The doctor raised her hands, “No no, I'll take you to him. Just, no funny business, okay?”

“You literally trusted me and a tiny green guy with a dead body. What makes this case special?”

“I'm now discovering that you're delusional and it's a little concerning, but I don't want to get sacked because of whatever strings you can pull.”

“I wasn't gonna get you sacked!” Dib argued, “Maybe told off for going against a direct order, but I'm not that kinda guy. I just wanna interview this patient, then I'll be outta your way. You can search my stuff if you want some sort of confirmation that I'm clean.”

“I'll just take your word for it, you do seem like a decent guy. Albeit, crazy in the head.” The doctor shrugged.

Dib's eye twitched. There was that _crazy_ word again. If he could eradicate a word from the universal dictionary, that would be it.

The short walk to the patient was completed in silence. The doctor waved to the curtained bed, then nodded to Dib, giving him permission to enter. She turned and left.

Dib pulled the curtain aside and stepped in, locking eyes with a young blond man who was tying his shoe laces.

“Oh... Hey,” The man spoke, “Do I know you? I mean, you don't look like a doctor.”

“I'm not a doctor,” Dib answered, “I'm a paranormal investigator. My name is Dib Membrane.”

“ _Membrane_? Like... Professor Membrane? Wait, are you his son?”

“Yes!” Dib gave a shy smile.

“Huh, that explains the uncanny resemblance, and the funky hair.” The man finished his laces, “So uh... A paranormal investigator, huh? Are you here to ask about the werewolf?”

“I am!”

“Can we do this in the cafe? I've been discharged and I am starving!”

-

The cafe was thankfully rather quiet. As they sat at a table, the blond man, named Randy, had ordered an entire Sunday dinner. Dib decided on a coffee, he really needed one.

Dib pulled out a worn notepad, and a pen. He turned expectantly to Randy, “Alright, do you remember what time you were attacked?”

Randy chewed on a mouthful of food as he thought, “Hm, I think it was 2am. I was comin' home from a party, took the usual route through the park.”

Dib was writing furiously onto the notepad as Randy spoke through mouthfuls of food.

“I heard this scream, and when I looked at the field there was this big grey thing hunched over something. I must've spooked it because it very quickly turned around and, oh God those eyes. They were creepy.” Randy shuddered, “Wide, bloodshot, demented looking. Next I knew the damn thing had me on the ground and was gnawing on my arm!” He waved said arm in front of Dib.

“I don't suppose there's a chance I can take a look at the wounds?” Dib asked, eyeing the bandages.

“Well, Doc says not to undress it, but I did take photos for my Instagram!” Randy pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Dib. “I ain't uploaded them yet though, so they're still in the gallery.”

Dib found the gallery, and the photos. The thumbnails were all mostly red and skin-tan, but clicking into each revealed an arm, shredded and bleeding heavily.

“These do look like the hallmarks of a canidae bite.” Dib flicked through the photos. He swiped one too far, and quickly swept back, blushing furiously.

“What?”

“Sorry, I was going through the pictures of your wound and I went one too far and erh... saw what I'm assuming is your dick pic. My apologies.”

Randy pouted, “That's all?”

“...Yes?...”

The blond shrugged, “... Liked what you saw?”

Dib choked, “What?? I-No, I mean... I'm flattered, but-”

“Shame, you're a decent looker.”

“Can we get back to the interview, please?” Dib's face was on fire.

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, I managed to kick the thing off me. I must've winded it because it cried and then ran off.”

“How tall was the werewolf?”

“Nearly hitting seven feet, if it stood straight. And with how bulky it was I'm saying around four hundred pounds.”

“Any distinguishing features?”

“Um, I think it was blind in one eye, couldn't see past all the teeth.”

Dib pouted, but wrote down the detail.

“I'm gonna do a rough sketch, you just let me know what to change, add or remove, okay?” Dib asked. After a confirmation nod from Randy, the young investigator begun to sketch.

After finalising the details, the location where the attack took place, and noting down Randy's details (Dib warned there could be a risk that Randy was now carrying the virus that caused the mutation), the two men parted ways.

Dib left the hospital, glancing down at the sketched drawing of his suspect. He was feeling pretty confident, especially with the victim believing his attacker was a supernatural entity. It was a tiny reminder that he wasn't alone, that his sort of people were just far and few.

Now that he had a location and a description, Dib decided he would return home to rest up before venturing out tonight. He couldn't return to the dorm, since Zim had said the fire department were called to the scene, and they'd been booted from the building until the department considered it safe to re-enter.

So his plan was to get back to the college grounds, hop in his car, drive home, rest up, then when night fell, get his Swollen Eyeball gear, maybe a weapon or two, and then go track this werewolf.


	4. Cruise Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim drives a car, Dib nearly has a stroke, and GIR's been hanging out with Gaz.

The fire crew had begun to pack away their gear, after confirming that the explosion was caused by malpractice involving a microwave and a mobile phone. The smoke had done most of the damage, painting the walls inside the crime scene, and on the fringes of the doorway in the hall, varying shades of black, with the gradient being it's deepest closer to the sight where the microwave used to be.

The principle of the college was talking to one of the firemen, when they heard someone yell.

“Hey! You can't go in there!”

Both turned in time to see a tiny green figure bolt into the dorm room. They had begun to approach when the door was slammed shut, and locked.

“What the-” The Principle asked, “Who was that?!”

A panting fireman approached, “He-He said it was his dorm and... And he needed to get something. I tried to stop him-!”

The principle made a phone call to the secretary, located in the main building. “Who's in Room 404?”

“Um, two students. Dib Membrane, and Zim Human....”

“I know Membrane, and he's not green.”

“No, Sir. Zim Human is the green kid. According to records, it's a medical condition... Has something happened? Should I call their parents?”

“I hope that won't be necessary. The situation is I believe Zim just locked himself in the dorm that was on fire earlier. I'll call you back if I need you to call his parents.”

Pocketing the phone, the principle approached the door and knocked.

“Zim? You can't be in there yet, it hasn't been given the all clear. You need to come out!”

Silence.

“Zim?...” The principle glanced at the firemen, who had gathered a door ram from one of the trucks outside. “Can you at least let us know if you are okay?”

Silence.

The principle turned to the firemen, “He's not responding...”

“He may have inhaled residue smoke and passed out, step aside!”

Following their orders, the principle stood back and watched as the firemen readied the door ram. Just as they had begun to swing it, the door swung open, and Zim stood, pouting at them. The fireman redirected the ram from him, and in the panic they became tangled up among themselves and fell in a knotted heap of limbs.

“Zim! What were you thinking? It's not safe to return to your dorm yet! Is Dib in there too?” The principle asked.

“The Dib-beast is currently in a medical facility for unrelated reasons. And before you ask, he was alive the last time I saw him.”

“Uhh...” The principle trailed off, “Okay, but still. You shouldn't be here at this time, now please leave!”

Zim pointed at him, screaming, “ZIM WILL LEAVE WHEN ZIM WANTS!”

There was a moment of silence among everyone, and Zim noticed they were all staring at him.

He cleared his throat, “Anyway, I'm leaving now. I simply forgot something important... It was erh... My college work! I might be a rebellious human adolescent but I do want to pass my classes.”

“Ooh...kay...?”

“I'M LEAVING NOW. Resume your fire assisting drone duties!”

Zim quickly turned and marched out of the building. When he was far enough out of their hearing range, he begun rambling to himself.

“That horrid Dib-human, he used his reverse psychokinetic abilities to make me believe my projects in the dorm would be discovered! He made me forget that I don't _keep_ my projects on these grounds! I always transport them back to my base when I have made some progress on them! Ooooh he will pay! Tricking Zim like that! IT IS ZIM WHO WILL BE DOING THE TRICKY... TRICK...TRICKS!”

Stopping near the car park, he glanced around, watching the remaining fire crew as they continued to clean up.

“Wait...” Zim noticed someone in the car park, and using his ocular implants, was quick to identify the person. “HAH! Let the trickening begin!”

Dib felt around himself for his car keys, as he approached his car. His pockets came up empty (save for his phone and wallet), so he threw his back pack off his shoulder, got down on one knee and searched through it.

“Ah! There!” He found the keys buried beneath the books, “For a second there, I thought I lost my car key-” He stood up and froze.

“WHERE'S MY FUCKING CAR?!”

The parking space that once held Dib's car, was now empty.

“W-What... How... IT WAS THERE!! I SAW IT!” Dib ran over to the space, stopping just outside the lines. He reached over, feeling around the air. “Is it invisible?”

He discovered it wasn't invisible. It was literally gone.

“Oh my God. It... It _was_ right there!” Dib ran his hands through his hair. “What the fuck-”

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!!!”

Dib blinked, “...Zim? Where are you?!” He looked around.

Zim dropped out from the nearest tree, pointing at the stressed human and cackling like an idiot.

“How does it feel, Dib?” Zim taunted with a toothy grin, “How does it feel to be the tricked!?”

“Wh-What?...”

“You thought you could fool ZIM?!” Zim demanded, “Well, you did... BUT NOT FOR LONG!”

“What are you talking about?!” Dib asked.

“Earlier you used your reverse psychokinetic skills on Zim, and had me believe that these fire drones would discover my projects! It wasn't until after I returned to the dorm, that I suddenly remembered I _don't keep my projects on site._ ”

“You don't?”

“No Dib. I don't!”

“Also... ''reverse psychokinetic skills''?..... You mean reverse psychology?”

“Don't you DARE try to use it again! ZIM IS WISER TO YOUR TRICKS!”

“I didn't use anything on you! I actually thought you did have some alien projects lying around in the dorm! But forget that, do you know what happened to my car?!” Dib snapped.

“OF COURSE I KNOW!” Zim boasted, “This is MY trickery!”

Dib sighed, “Okay. You haven't broken it or threw it into space have you? Cause I kinda need it.”

“Where do you think you're going?” Zim demanded.

“Uh... Home?”

“HAS THE DIB GIVEN UP COLLEGE?!” The Irken gaped, “After all that whimpering about wanting to go to college, now you're-”

“I'm not leaving College you ass!” Dib shouted, “I'm just heading back home for the weekend. It's not like we can go back to the dorm yet!” He gestured to the fire trucks to emphasis his point.

Zim studied the fire trucks, “Very well. I will be accompanying you on your journey home.”

“Fine, I don't care.” Dib sighed, “But I _do_ need the car.”

“Fine. I'm going to take your earlier reactions to it's absence as a win. VICTORY FOR ZIM!”

“Yay, victory for the space roach who's gonna end up in the middle of the high way if he keeps pushing my buttons.” Dib hissed.

An arm extended from Zim's PAK, and it presented a button to him as he answered Dib, “Chose your words wisely, Dib, I can control where I place your motor vehicle and I may decide that your huge head is an adequate landing zone.”

“Again with the big head jokes” Dib muttered.

He watched as the disguised alien pressed the button on his PAK leg. The car suddenly reappeared from thin air.

“Whoa... How'd you do that?” Dib asked.

“I've been dabbling in teleportation. It's still a work in progress, and so far all live test subjects have been teleported with missing vital organs. It's been a frustrating project.” Zim explained.

“I... guess that explains why my car doesn't have it's driver's seat now...” Dib said, as he held the driver's side door open, and found that the driver's seat was no longer there.

Zim peeked around him to see the damage, “Oh. Well... Tough?..” He shrugged.

“Fix it, Zim.”

“I just said the teleportation project was a _work in progress_ and I have yet to work out the flaws!” Zim hissed.

“I can't drive home without a seat!”

“Fine!” Zim snapped, shoving Dib away from the driver's side. “THEN ZIM WILL DRIVE!”

“Wait... what... No!”

“This is no longer up for debate, Dib. Get in the car!” Zim commanded, as he took place behind the steering wheel. He extended his PAK legs, and positioned them in the necessary places (gas, brake, etc).

Reluctantly, Dib climbed into the passenger side. “Y-You _do_ know how to drive a car right?”

“I've done the necessary research and simulated training. You will need to surrender your vehicle keys to me, unless you'd like me to rewire this entire machine.”

Dib reached past the Irken and put the keys into the ignition. Sitting back in his seat, he quickly put his seat belt on, and Zim started the car.

“Just so you know, Zim. If I die, I'm coming back as a ghost and I will spend the rest of _your_ life haunting you.”

-

Three hours later, and a badly damaged car rolled to a stop outside the Membrane family home. The cars axles were buckled, causing the car to wobble as it moved. One wheel had lost a tyre and was now riding on a red-hot rim. Scratches, dents, and varying stains (ranging from grass and mud to paint from other vehicles, and blood), and part of a fence was lodged into the front bumper. The front wind shield was cracked and bloodied. Inside the car, both Zim and Dib were covered in pudding.

Shaking himself out of the shock from the terror he had inflicted upon himself and Dib, Zim blinked, glanced down at his hands (his claws had torn into the steering wheel, due to his fearful grip on it). He pried himself free from the wheel and was about to retract his PAK's legs until he finally registered the pudding.

“What the- Is this _pudding_?!” Zim eyed it suspiciously, “Eugh! It's everywhere! Did you decide to consume pudding during the drive?!”

He fired an accusing glare at Dib, but paused.

Dib was staring ahead, his eyes bulging out of his skull. He was gripping onto his seat for dear life with one hand, while the other held a paper bag to his mouth, where he was trying to calm his hyperventilating.

“...Are you dying? Because you can't haunt me _now_!” Zim pouted, folding his arms. “The journey has ended and you are still alive. Your earlier promise of haunting my life in your post-death spectral form is void!”

Zim glanced down at himself again. “Okay seriously, Dib. Did you open pudding or something? Why is it everywhere. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO WASH THIS OUT OF MY PAK?!” Zim hissed.

Dib finally spoke, “C-C-Clembrane.... packed it... into a suitcase.... In the trunk...” He released a slow, shuddering breath, “It... It must've broke... open...”

“Clembrane?” Zim asked, “...He's _still_ alive?!”

“I... I think you killed someone....” Dib muttered, noting the blood splatter on the wind shield.

“I collided with two cows, a dog, a cat, three birds, and a neighbour – BUT HE HAD IT COMING!”

“W-What?”

“He threw a shoe at GIR.” Zim hissed, “So I hit him with the car.” He added, giggling.

“Oh dear God...”

“Yes yes, he's your deity's problem now.” Zim waved off. He examined his PAK legs, then gave an aggravated sigh, “I must return to my base so I can clean this pudding out of my PAK. It's still daylight though, and I can't afford to be scene with my PAK legs exposed...”

“You are NOT driving!” Dib finally snapped.

“I AM NOT WAITING UNTIL NIGHT FALL COVERED IN GROTESQUE PUDDING!”

“Then use my shower or something!”

At the mere thought of water, Zim hissed.

“Oh wait yeah, I forgot water burns you.” Dib mused, “Ugh, maybe my dad will let you use his lab down stairs – BUT ONLY FOR CLEANING THE PAK!”

“HAH! My PAK requires _my_ laboratory! I'm going back to my base!”

Zim tried to start the car, but it didn't respond. He slammed his fists on the steering wheel, “WORK! ZIM COMMANDS IT!”

“Zim, you literally totalled my car. It's through sheer luck ALONE that we made it to the house.” Dib said. He unbuckled his seat, grimacing at the pudding that soaked through his clothes. It stuck his hair to his face, and had found its way into the crack on the right lense of his glasses. He had to kick the door to open it (it was that badly dented), and on shaking legs, climbed out.

“Look, just come inside. Call GIR to bring the Voot around or something.” Dib suggested.

“Impossible. The Voot Cruiser is currently out of commission. I'm working on some upgrades.” Zim approached the opened passenger door, but didn't climb out of the car. “I could have GIR retrieve some cleansing chalk, a fresh uniform, and some tools for my PAK...”

Zim retrieved the communicator from his PAK, “GIR! Come in!”

The front door to Dib's house was kicked open. A green dog rocketed from the building and crash-landed into Zim, throwing them both into the pudding-covered car.

“OOF!”

“MASTAH! HI!”

Dib glanced at his door, then at the robot. He looked at the door again, then back at GIR, “Umm what were you doing in my home?”

“I'M PLAYING WITH THE SCARY LADY!” GIR screamed.

“Scary lady?” Zim asked, trying to get GIR off of him.

“Gaz?” Dib asked, looking back towards the house. Sure enough, his sister was leaning against the door frame, playing on a Game Slave 7.5.

She cast one glance in their direction. “You didn't let Zim _drive_ did you?”

“I didn't have much of a choice! Ugh, look, I've had a real shit day, can you at least spare me the horrible teasing for now?”

Gaz raised a brow, “Why don't you tell me all about it. I'll decide after if it's worth letting you off or not.”

Dib sighed, “Okay,” He turned to Zim, who was still fighting with GIR. “Are you coming in or what?”

Zim finally lost his temper, lifted GIR, and threw him out of the car with such force, the tiny robot flew over the building.

“That was uncalled for!” Dib snapped as Zim climbed out of the car.

“Shut your face hole! This is nothing new to GIR!” Zim hissed.

GIR suddenly reappeared in front of Zim, grabbing onto the Irken's stained uniform and jumped up and down on the spot like an excited child. “THAT WAS FUN! DO IT AGAIN!”

Dib stared at him for a moment, then looked at Zim, “He said the same thing to me this morning when I kicked him off my bed.”

“GIR's frustratingly immune to abuse. It's all a silly little game to him.”

“And that's bad?”

“YES! Sometimes I _want_ him to suffer!! Awful little robot!” Zim sneered, glaring down at GIR.

GIR smiled, “I know you love me!”

Dib smirked, “You _did_ run over a neighbour for him.”

Gaz spoke up, “You _killed_ someone for GIR?”

“THE THREE OF YOU WILL CEASE THESE LIES OR ZIM WILL REMOVE YOUR VOCAL CORDS AND FEED THEM TO.... SOMETHING!!!” Zim screamed.

-

Dib had made it a point that he was going to shower first before he told Gaz anything about his day, since he didn't want to waste anymore time covered in drying pudding.

He wouldn't allow Zim into his father's lab unattended, and the Irken retaliated by kicking Dib out of his own bedroom so that he could clean his PAK without ''annoying humans to distract him'', forcing Dib to take a change of clothes into the bathroom with him.

After his shower, he slipped into a t-shirt bearing the periodic table, boxers, and grey sweatpants. He threw his other clothes into the wash, then crashed on the sofa in the living room and shared his horrible day with Gaz.

“Ugh,” Dib buried his face in his hands, “I've had bad days, but this one...”

Gaz hummed a response, continuing to play on her G.S 7.5.

Dib glanced at her, “...You're gonna start throwing digs at me, aren't you?”

“Know what? I think you suffered enough for one day.” Gaz eyed him, “...But give me a reason while from here until tomorrow...”

Dib raised his hands in surrender, “I won't!... I just can't make promises for Zim...”

“I can handle him.” Gaz said.

“Um, okay... So... How's your week been? We haven't spoken since last Sunday.”

“I don't know what your excuse for that is, but I've been busy.”

“Game tournaments?”

Gaz nodded, “Sometimes it's hard being the best... but then, I look at all those kids, the ones who played their hardest. The most popular of their youth because they were the best gamers... I watch their souls die within their eyes when I crush them and their dreams at the tournaments. And it gives me a sense of peace and tranquillity, the reminder that there can only be one.”

Dib gawked at his sister.

“I also got offered a position in game developing while at the tournament, too.” Gaz added.

“You did? That's great!”

Gaz shrugged, “Yeah. I can start any time.”

“When do you plan on starting?” Dib asked.

“When I feel like it. I'm working on a few games here, and beating them takes priority.”

“Are you sure about that? Because a career should be more-” He faltered at the glare his sister was sending his way.

“The last person who told me to put employment over enjoyment became fodder for my bedroom security bots.”

“Ah,” Dib swallowed, “...They're still programmed to eat human flesh, then.”

“I had to add other meat sources to their diet recently, so human flesh has become a treat for them. They now consume beef, pork, venison, poultry, fish, and whatever else bleeds.” Gaz rolled her shoulders, “Anyway, provided I have no major distractions, I expect to start my new job next week.”

Dib nodded, “Noted.”

“How's this year with Zim been? You guys still sharing a college dorm or did you finally snap and throw him out for good?”

“I've been trying to throw him out for good since day one!” Dib said, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep an alien insect out? It's like trying to deal with spiders, except this one is an angry, talking cockroach from space! He just keeps getting back in, either through the door, the window... Or holes he makes in the walls...”

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“That's an understatement. I don't get why he doesn't just return to Irk. You and I both know what happened to the Irken Army.”

Gaz glanced at the stairs, then turned to Dib, “Is he still in denial?”

“Yep.”

“Poor fucker.”

“P-Poor?!” Dib asked.

“Try to see it from his point of view.” Gaz suggested.

Dib thought for a moment, then stood. Gaz watched as he knelt on the floor.

“This isn't gonna work, even on my knees I'm still taller than him.”

Gaz snorted, “You know what I meant!”

“Yeah, but I needed a little humor.” Dib laughed, sitting back on the sofa beside his sister. He fell silent as he considered her suggestion. “I guess... He's afraid of what he'll return to if he leaves Earth?”

Gaz nodded. “No one is immune to fear.”

“Even you?” Dib asked.

“Except me.” Gaz reminded, “Fear is afraid of me.”

The sound of a door opening captured their attention, and two heads turned to see Professor Membrane entering the home.

“Ah!” Membrane spoke, smiling from behind the huge collar of his lab coat, “MY BOY CHILD FOUND HIS WAY HOME! I was starting to believe you'd wandered into the sewers again!”

“Okay first off, I really did see a clown in the sewers!” Dib defended, “Secondly... How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Oh, about two hours now. You're late for dinner!” Membrane said.

“Have you _seen_ my car?”

“No?”

Dib paused, then got up and raced outside.

“MY CAR'S FUCKING GONE!.... AGAIN!”

Gaz and Membrane shared a glance, then watched as Dib came back into the house, looking utterly defeated.

“I think I'm starting to shut down.” Dib uttered.

Membrane took a bizarre looking pen from his pocket, and with a flick of a switch, a light shined from it. He then quickly examined Dib's head, “Hm. No. You are experiencing a dangerously high level of stress.”

“With the day I've had? Consider it a miracle that I haven't blown my own brains out.”

“Son,” Membrane spoke, “Please don't ever say such a thing again.”

“If you're facing enemies, you're going in the right direction.” Gaz added, then waved the gaming console in her hand at Dib.

“Um... Okay? I don't get the reference.” Dib then looked at their father, “And if you had any idea of the hell I went through today, literally from the moment I woke up...”

Membrane pulled Dib into a suffocating hug, “Ah yes, I know what it's like to wake up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“What?” Dib asked.

“Come children! I will ask Foodio to prepare dinner! Tonight we are having Spaghetti Bolognese!”

Dib pried himself from his father's bear hug, “Um, I've a couple of guests-”

“MARVELOUS!” Membrane smiled, “It is scientifically proven that sharing your problems with your friends can help reduce stress!”

“What if they're the cause of like... eighty percent of the stress?” Dib asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well that would just be counter-productive!” Membrane pouted.

Before Dib could speak, GIR fell down the stairs.

“What the-” Dib was cut off.

“GIR! We've been over this! You use your LEGS!”

“BUT I LIKE TO USE MY HEAD!” GIR argued.

Zim finally appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking completely pudding free. He was fixing his wig to his head when he noticed Membrane, and froze, “Erh-”

“OH!” Membrane spoke, “It's your little foreign friend! And how are you?” He asked Zim.

“Uh... Fine?...” Zim answered.

“Will you stay for dinner? We are having spaghetti bolognese!”

“Thank you, but I will pass.”

“I WON'T!” GIR screamed, getting up and running into the kitchen.

Membrane watched the little green dog vanish, then turned to Zim, “You MUST share your dog-language translator technology with me some time!”

“NEVER!” Zim screamed, “.... Unless you in return will surrender your governments launch codes.”

Membrane laughed, “Such a joker!” He turned and went into the kitchen.

“Zim wasn't joking.” Zim hissed.

Dib glared at Zim, “You're not getting launch codes, Zim.”

“Then the older Dib will not be getting GIR's voice box!”

“He doesn't WANT-wait, you were gonna give him GIR's voice box in exchange for codes?”

“No, but he doesn't know that.” Zim smirked.

Dib narrowed his eyes at the Irken, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

“Call me when dinner is ACTUALLY on the table!” Gaz shouted from the living room.


	5. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib tries to be open about his emotions, and Zim doesn't like the idea of being replaced.

Much to Dib's relief (and surprise, given the guests they had for dinner), the ordeal went rather smoothly. Despite the Professor's insistence, Zim refused to eat anything, and chose instead to tinker with a device that Dib was suspicious of. He didn't know what it was, but knowing Zim, it was likely something dangerous, so he kept an eye on the disguised alien.

The moment Gaz walked into the kitchen to join them for dinner, console in hand, GIR regurgitated a Game Slave console, and begun screaming to Gaz about his progress in the game she let him have (as soon as she was finished with it, of course).

As soon as dinner was finished, Dib loaded his dishes into the dish washer, and was about to make his escape to his room, Membrane called out to him.

“Son! A word?”

Dib faltered, sharing a glance with Zim as the Irken stood at the top of the stairs. He glanced at his dad, “Um... about what?” Dib pretended to be clueless. He knew what it would be about, and he didn't feel like talking about the crap that went down in the hospital at that moment.

“About earlier?” Membrane asked, “With the patient at the hospital?”

“Ooooh!...” Dib feigned, “I forgot about that! Listen, I'm pretty tired and-”

Fate must have decided to cut Dib some slack, because at that moment, Membrane's phone rang. When he answered it, he flinched away from the screaming coming from the other end.

“Okay, calm down! I am on my way!” Membrane slipped the phone in his pocket and turned to Dib, “Sorry son, we will have to post-pone that chat! The robot staff members are rebelling and are demanding to speak to me personally! I shall return later!”

With that, the man rushed out the door.

“HAH!” Zim scoffed, “What imbecile lacks control of their own robot minion?!”

Dib looked at Zim, raising a brow.

“...What?”

“You're one to talk.” Dib commented, “Nine out of ten times, you barely have control over GIR.” He added.

“LIAR!”

“Whatever. Look, I'm gonna lie down for a bit, if you're gonna stick around, _don't_ go near my dad's lab without me or Gaz.” Dib commented as he passed the alien and approached his room. “I need to be prepared for later tonight.”

“Oh yes,” Zim followed the human into the room. He approached the book shelf and studied the various books and journals on it, “You are going hunting.”

Dib was setting up a playlist on his phone, then connected his headphones, “Yes and no. I'm not gonna shoot the werewolf on sight... At least not unless I _have_ to. I want to study it, track its locations, and maybe hopefully see who it changes back into. They will be much easier to approach when they've returned to a human form.”

“You fear this creature?” Zim asked.

“Well... Yeah? It's a fucking werewolf. Half man, half wolf. If this thing bites you it could transmit the virus that causes the mutation.”

“And yet you don't fear Zim?”

Dib paused, “Well... yes and no.”

Zim glared at him, “What kind of answer is that?!”

“You're a complicated guy...” Dib shrugged, “Like, I know from first hand experience what you _can_ do, and that's pretty fucking scary, but then... You haven't out right killed me yet, and I will probably regret saying this, but I don't think you'll ever kill me. Do I think there's a chance you'll pull my guts out while I'm conscious? Definitely! We've been sharing a dorm for over a year, and you've been on this Earth for... five years now? You've literally been bred for war, and have no problems killing. I don't know why you haven't killed me yet, it's probably because you are sadistic and enjoy seeing me suffer...”

Zim raised a brow when Dib trailed off. He knew there was more to come, and sure enough, Dib continued.

“...Though... Part of me is kinda hoping that the reason you haven't killed me yet is because you've come to see me as a friend. That's kinda how I've come to see you, even though you can be a huge dick head. It's nice to have a friend for a change on this planet.” Dib shrugged.

The alien silently glared at him. Dib fidgeted with the headphones in his hands, nervously.

“Your sentimentality is a weakness that is going to get you killed.” Zim commented. “And Zim has no need for friendship.”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Yup. Saw that coming.” He slipped on his headphones and lay back on his bed, while the Irken begun pulling random books off the shelf.

Zim had finally found a book that seemed interesting enough, and he had seated himself in a corner to read through it, when Gaz and GIR walked into the room.

“MASTAH!” GIR screamed, “I BEAT THE GAME!”

“Correction;” Gaz interrupted, “He got frustrated at a level, then ate the game card.”

Zim narrowed one of his eyes, as GIR climbed onto his head and peeked into the book Zim held, “...Why aren't you breaking him apart for it?”

“I've already completed the game eight times, so I don't care what he does with it now.” Gaz shrugged. She noticed the book in his hands, “You're reading about werewolves?”

“The Dib has not told you he plans to hunt one?”

Gaz looked over at her brother, who appeared to be sleeping. “He did. I'm just wondering why YOU are taking an interest.”

“I am researching what makes these creatures more dangerous than the mighty Zim!” Zim explained. “So far, what I've learned has been disappointing. I may beat your brother with this book.”

“When you decide to go through with that call me, I wanna record it.” Gaz answered.

GIR mused, then pointed at the book, “THAT HUMAN IS NAKED! WHY IS HE NAKED?!”

“Because he changed shape, GIR. And his primitive Earth suits do not have the technology to conform to their wearers physical changes.” Zim explained.

“I WANNA BE NAKED!” GIR jumped off of Zim's head, and then stripped out of his dog suit. He ran around the room laughing.

Gaz leaned against the door frame, “I guess you're gonna tag along with my brother then to hunt for this werewolf?”

“Your brother admitted to me earlier that he does not fear Zim. I will change that by killing this creature and reclaiming my rightful place as Dibs biggest fear.”

Gaz snorted.

Zim glared at her, “You doubt Zim?!”

“Yes.”

The Irken shot onto his feet and marched up to Gaz. He faltered when he noticed she didn't flinch, and her unnervingly calm appearance made Zim quickly lose his confidence. He hoped she didn't notice.

“Try not to get yourself or my brother killed.” Gaz simply answered, before she straightened up and left.

-

Dib was ripped from his sleep by an inhuman scream, that was loud enough to be heard through the music blaring in his headset.

He sprung up from the bed into a sitting position and ripped his headphones off. He frowned when he heard silence. Glancing around the room, he noticed that he was also alone, though evidence of Zim was clear because his books were left in the place where he had been earlier, and ''Dib Stinks'' was written on his bedroom wall in the Irken's hand writing. It was accompanied by a child-like drawing of a human with a head that had no business being that massive, compared to it's tiny body.

Dib begun to wonder if the scream he heard was part of a long-forgotten dream, until he heard it again. It was in his house.

The young adult threw himself off the bed and reached under it, then pulled out a hand gun. He bolted to the stairs, armed and ready to defend his family and their home. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he listened to voices coming from the living room, and an eerie glow was the only light available.

As soon as the sofa came into view, Dib lowered the gun when he saw a purple haired head sitting on one end of the sofa, and on the other, two little antennae.

“Quit your bitching, you told me to show you werewolves.”

“I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE THE METAMORPHOSIS!! OH THE HORROR!”

“This is just a movie,” Gaz reasoned.

Zim, (sans his disguise), looked at her suspiciously. “You mean this is fiction?!”

“Oh yeah, this is.” Gaz shrugged, “I've never seen a real werewolf, but I'm willing to bet their transformations are much worse! Movies sometimes exaggerate some things, and other times, they down play things.”

Zim's antennae laid flat against his head as he shuddered, “Zim does not wish to witness such a horrific shifting of shapes.”

“Grow some balls.” Gaz hissed in frustration.

“Zim refuses to grow tumours! You shut your feeding pipe!”

Dib, who was standing on the stairs, finally decided to step in before Gaz mounted the Irken's decapitated head on the living room wall.

“You're showing Zim horror movies?” Dib asked, approaching the sofa from behind.

Zim released another horrified shriek, jumping with fright, and ended up falling off the sofa. He glared up at Dib as Gaz laughed.

“WHERE ON IRK DID YOU COME FROM?!” Zim demanded, pointing a shaking hand at Dib.

“My room?” Dib frowned, “I wasn't trying to scare-”

“ZIM FEARS NOTHING!”

“YOU'RE LITERALLY SHAKING!” Dib snapped back.

“THIS IS- … Erh... A SUGAR SPEED...!”

“...A sugar rush?” Dib corrected.

“Whoa, Dib. You scared the only bit of intelligence he had out of him. He can't even form a half-decent lie.” Gaz smirked.

Zim was reeling from the scare so much he missed Gaz' insult. He grabbed the lamp sitting on the small table nearest to the sofa and threw it at Dib, who ducked it. It smashed against the wall, and fell to the floor in pieces.

“HEY! I liked that lamp!” Dib hissed, glaring at Zim.

“I DON'T CARE!” Zim snapped, glaring back.

Gaz sighed, finally lifting the remote to pause the movie, “Look, you guys can either shut up and let me finish the movie, or I can crucify you both to the 'Stop' sign at the end of the street. Your call.”

Dib finally tore his glare away from the Irken, and looked at Gaz, “Sorry Gaz. I'm gonna get ready now anyway.”

“Ready? To fight?!” Zim asked, eager to beat Dib into a pulp for having the gal to surprise him.

“I'm going werewolf hunting.” Dib reminded, heading back up stairs.

“Wh-!” Zim gaped, “THE WOLF CREATURE COMES BEFORE ZIM?!”

He couldn't believe it. No one ignored Irk's top invader just to hunt down some wild animal! Zim was now certain this creature had to die. First it replaced him as Dib's biggest fear, and now it was more interesting than fighting Invader Zim!

The Irken was seething. He would accompany Dib on this hunt, and as soon as they found their quarry, Zim was going to blow it to pieces.

Soon, Dib came down the stairs again, geared and ready to go. He fixed the back pack on his shoulder and checked his mobile, “Gaz, I'm heading out now. If you don't hear from me in two hours, call the cops.”

“Why can't you call them?” Gaz asked. She knew why, but it was always funny to hear Dib explain.

“You know why, Gaz! They black listed my name because of all the ''hoax calls'' I've made.” Dib rolled his eyes. “I've never made hoax calls! They just won't take me seriously!”

“And now you're asking me to call them for you.”

“Only if I don't contact you after two hours. Hopefully it won't be necessary, but I'm also bringing a gun and a couple of silver bullets I made and kept in my ''In the event of-'' box.”

Gaz sighed, “Fine.”

Dib stepped outside, closely followed by the Irken who was adjusting his wig. He walked right into Dibs leg.

“Agh! HEY-!” Zim snapped, glaring up at the human.

“I'm only now remembering my car is missing.” Dib stared at the space where the car used to be. He looked down at Zim, “Are you hiding it again?”

“YOU KEEP YOUR FILTHY ACCUSATIONS TO YOURSELF, HUMAN!”

“Fine Zim!” Dib snapped, throwing his arms into the air in frustration, “You can marry the fucking car for all I care!” He walked off and begun his journey to the location where Randy had been attacked.

Zim glared at him, then followed, “Zim will do no such thing to your horrible transport machine!”

-

The journey to the park was rather uneventful, and despite his efforts to start some form of a conversation, Dib always received an insult or a grunt as some form of an answer. He started to wonder why Zim even bothered to come along, the little shit clearly wanted to be else where.

The pair walked through the park, listening carefully to the sounds. Parks always seemed to be scary at night time, and with the knowledge of a monster roaming, it made Zim and Dib jumpy.

Aside from what he learned from the books, and the movie Gaz showed him, Zim really didn't know what to expect. He didn't like the idea that he was being watched by something that scared Dib more than he did. He wondered who this werewolf's parents were. Once he killed it, he would track them down and ensure they could never procreate again.

Dib was trying to use what he knew from Randy's information, to locate the site where the attack took place. It probably would've been a smart idea to call the man and ask him to tag along, just to point out where he'd been attacked, but Dib didn't want to risk endangering the man.

The pair soon peaked a hill, looking down at the city and the local mall. Dib frowned, the werewolf was somewhere, and if he didn't find it soon-

Zim suddenly hissed, “Why do I smell blood? Are you wounded?” He looked at Dib.

Dib thought, “You can smell blood?”

“Regretfully, now answer the question!”

“I'm not wounded, but...” Dib looked around, “Where's the smell coming from?”

Zim glared, “DO I LOOK-”

“You chose to come along! The least you can do is tell me where you smell blood!” Dib rolled his eyes.

Zim pointed, continuing to glare at the human.

“Was that so hard?” Dib asked condescendingly. He approached the area, and started to notice the grass was flattened in places. He bent down and pulled out his phone, then flicked on the torch built into the phone. Some parts of the grass were stained with blood.

Dib was about to ask Zim a question, but paused. He reconsidered, and changed his approach.

“Looks like the werewolf has eaten something here...” Dib commented.

“The blood isn't fresh.” Zim commented, only paying some attention. He had no idea that he had just played into Dib's hand.

“So then I guess this is Randy's blood...” Dib sighed.

“Who on Irk is Randy?” Zim asked, turning full attention to the human.

“He's the victim of the werewolf. The guy I interviewed at the hospital.”

“His parents must have hated him, if they named him Randy.” Zim muttered.

“What's wrong with the name?”

“Isn't that the term you humans use to refer to sexual arousal?” Zim asked, grimacing at the very idea. He turned to glare at the mall.

Dib shrugged. “Don't Irkens have different types of slang?”

“What is this slang?” Zim asked, glancing at Dib again.

“Its sorta like... nicknames given to things. Different places all over Earth have different types. It can also be offensive if you use the wrong kind of slang in the wrong culture.”

Zim growled, turning to watch the mall suspiciously.

Dib noticed. “Is there something down there?”

“Heh?”

“You keep looking towards the mall,” Dib commented, “Are you picking up something that I'm not?”

“Ah, you finally acknowledge your inferior human senses.”

“Yeah something like that.” Dib sighed.

Zim pouted, “It took you long enough!” He eyed the mall, “As for that wretched building... There is no wolf there.”

“Oh, I thought you could hear it down there.” The human searched the grass for some more evidence.

“I am watching out for the Wrinkle Sergeant.”

“The what now?” Dib asked, looking at Zim.

Zim pointed down at the mall. “The human who protects that building. I do not wish to engage him again – He is weird.”

“You're creeped out by the security guard.” Dib frowned, “Okay, cool. I take it you did something that got his attention.”

“Zim was only returning a movie! The Wrinkle Slab creature tried to take me prisoner!”

Dib shrugged. “Well, unless I see a werewolf going into the mall, we've no reason to go down there.”

He looked down at the site where Randy had been attacked. So far the only evidence there was the misplaced grass, and the patches of blood.

“Right,” Dib sighed in defeat. “I'm not even sure if it's worth getting a swab of the blood here, chances are the evidence has all been compromised.”

“You're admitting defeat already?”

“No, but our hunt just got more difficult.”

-

Twenty minutes passed before Dib finally decided to extend the search to the buildings surrounding the park. He hoped that the Werewolf would stick to the natural world and not create a den in the urban labyrinth that was Dib's city.

While he covered the ground, Zim had used his PAK legs to climb up the buildings, hoping from roof to roof while using his military training to cover ground stealthily. The Irken occasionally peeked over the edge of the building, looking down into areas that Dib couldn't access.

“Anything?” Dib asked, over his walkie-talkie.

“Do you really think I would just sit and look at this thing as soon as we find it?” Zim replied through the device in his hand.

These Earth walkie talkies were no better than paper cups and strings in Zim's mind, there wasn't even a video feed on them! He wanted to bounce it off Dib's fat head, it might be a decent projectile.

Zim continued, “If I find the werewolf, I will kill it.”

Dib frowned at the walkie-talkie, “I would much rather you didn't. This thing is _still_ a human, and I would rather try to save them from this.”

Zim leaped onto another roof, “You humans and your empathy! That is the sort of weakness that makes your species ripe for enslavement!”

Scaling a fence, Dib rolled his eyes. “You aren't killing the werewolf, Zim!”

“Try and stop me, Dib-Stink!” Zim taunted.

“I'm not fucking ar-” Dib froze in the middle of the alley behind the mall. Lying several feet in front of him, was a corpse. “Shit! I just found someone!”

“That is not surprising, you humans are everywhere on this blasted planet.”

“No Zim, I mean I found a body!” Dib hissed, examining the human corpse.

“Oh. Well. Good for you?”

As Dib examined the body, he noticed how it reminded him of the patient from the hospital, from the sickly complexion of his skin, to his near-hollow eye sockets. The corpse had zero body fat, looking as starved and frail as the patient had.

Dib stared at the corpse, “Is this the same infection?”

He glanced up in time to watch another body suddenly appear from a dump chute, that was connected to the mall.

“Oh my God!” Dib gasped, “Someone in the mall is dumping bodies!”

“How do you know?” Zim asked over the walkie-talkie.

“I just watched another body exit the waste chute!” Dib replied. He ran up to the back door of the mall, “Zim, what can you tell me about the mall security?”

“....Why do you want to know?”

“I'm going to find out who's been killing these people!”

“You're going INTO the building?!”

Dib picked the lock on the door, and carefully opened it. “How else am I going to find out who's doing this? I don't expect you to come with me in here but I would appreciate it if you could brace me for what I could face!”

“Zim will admit it was nice knowing you and that I will expect you to be reappearing from the mall in what you humans call a body bag.”

“Hm. Encouraging. Now tell me what's in here, aside from the security guard.”

“Dib, the ENTIRE building is rigged! Stationed turrets, laser grids, robot sentrys, zombies-”

“ZOMBIES?!” Dib near screamed. He glanced back at the corpse, “Is that a... _zombie?!_ ”

Zim replied, “The Wrinkle Slab creature has an army of zombies in his basement. Though now that I recall, the creatures were not very effective at doing anything other than aimlessly wandering about.”

“You mean to tell me the security guard of this mall has been hoarding zombies in his basement, and you've known about this for YEARS and HAVEN'T reported it?!”

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I CARE TO REPORT SUCH THINGS?!” Zim shouted.

“Oh my fucking- I'm going in here and finding out what the hell is going on. You better have yourself a good hiding place because when I come out I'm kicking your ass.” Dib hissed.

“ZIM HIDES FROM NO ONE!”

As Dib turned and stepped into the mall, he was hit on the back of the head with a small item. Rubbing his head, he looked at his feet.

Zim's walkie-talkie was lying on the ground, having been thrown by the alien.

“....Zim?” Dib called out. He received no answer. Rolling his eyes, he entered the mall.

Elsewhere, Zim had decided he was going to hunt for the werewolf without the Dib-Human. The idiot didn't want it dead! If this beast was as dangerous as he claimed, why did he not wish to see it dead? It boggled Zim's magnificent mind! Anyway, Dib clearly decided to chase after that other weirdo and his horde of zombies. It was an exquisite opening for Zim to locate and execute the werewolf.

Zim's mind raced though. What if Dib knew that Zim didn't like the werewolf replacing him? It started to make sense the more the Irken thought about it.

Of course that rotten human would replace Zim!

Zim growled. He'd been on this dirt ball for just over five years now, and not only has he NOT taken the Earth, but he hasn't even killed his arch nemesis! Dib had actually referred to him as a _friend_! Zim shuddered. He NEEDED to find this werewolf, and retake his rightful place as the scariest thing in Dib's life!

A new voice suddenly spoke up in his mind.

Was it really so bad having a friend though? Yeah, a human friend isn't ideal, but to his credit, Dib isn't like the rest of these hairless apes. He's proven to be quite capable and intelligent, Zim could reluctantly admit, that the brat had even proven to be a worthy adversary. Zim's only companion on this planet was GIR, and while the little robot meant well at times, he could be infuriatingly unreliable. As far as conversations go... GIR couldn't keep focus if he was promised all the tacos and piggies in the universe.

At least Dib could remain focused on the topic of the conversation.

Zim slapped himself. He glanced around to ensure he was alone, then approached a corner where a puddle lay on the edge of the road.

“You're an INVADER!” Zim glared down at the puddle, at his reflection. “Not just any invader! An IRKEN INVADER! Irken's never needed ''friends''! Where is this insanity coming from?!”

He glared at the reflection, “Is this what has become of Zim?!”

Were the Control Brains onto something when they first said he was a _defective_?

No! Of course not! Never!

Zim isn't defective! The Control Brains said that as a joke – They revealed he was Irks best invader at his Existence Evaluation!

No. That little voice that dared to suggest friendship, was the symptom of having been on this gross ball of muck and smell for far too long. Zim hoped the Tallest would contact him soon, because it was starting to look like he was going insane.

A yelp echoed from a near by alleyway, catching Zim's attention. He quickly extended his PAK legs and scaled a building, before sneaking towards the source. Peeking over the ledge of the building, he could see two dog-like creatures, small and skinny, picking at a shape on the ground.

Zim moved in closer, enough to identify the animals as a pair of Coyotes. The thing they were picking at, was still alive. And human.

The Irken dropped off the building, alerting the coyotes. They moved away from the body, before their hackles raised and they snarled, defensive over their food.

Zim simply shot one Coyote with the end of a PAK leg, and it's body exploded, sending parts everywhere. The other Coyote fled, yelping in fear.

Looking down at the barely-living human, Zim picked up a near by stick and cautiously approached on his PAK legs. He studied the body from a safe distance, moving closer bit by bit. Soon, he was close enough to poke the body with the stick. After a bit of effort, he managed to turn it over.

The human was female, and looked exactly like the body that he and Dib saw in the hospital earlier that day.

“Ew. It's still alive.” Zim commented, staring at the sickly woman in disgust.

She wasn't looking at anything in particular. In fact, she seemed to be disorientated. Aside from looking like the patient, her stomach had been torn open, and parts were half-eaten. She wasn't screaming, or crying, nor did she speak. She made small gurgling moans and snarls, trying to claw her way to who-knows-where.

“I can almost hear the Dib now,” Zim sneered, then put on a terrible impersonation of Dib, “ ''Oh my GAWD Zim! You should tell someone about this right now! Because we are friends!'' …” He poked the woman with the stick. “Stupid creature! You are nearly expired! Zim sees no point in alerting the authorities when you are clearly beyond saving!”

He stalked around the body, studying it at different angles. Should he tell Dib he found a live one? Would that idiot even have the stomach to handle this situation? Speaking of stomachs...

Zim poked at a half-eaten liver, which had been ripped out of the woman's stomach. “Those wild dogs did this?”

If he was being honest to himself, the wounds seemed too big to have been inflicted by the coyotes. Zim froze. Did the werewolf do this?!

He watched as the woman seemed to finally die, her breathing became shallow, her body then convulsing before it sank in on itself as her lungs released their last breath. She was still now.

Zim pouted. Was there a connection between the werewolf and this infection that made humans turn into sickly, green, brainless zombies.

The Irken's eyes widened in realisation.

Zombies....

Dib!

He had to find Dib!!


	6. Predators and Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim spills a lot of blood.

Dib had been sneaking around the Mall for a while now. He had managed to evade detection so far, and his destination, the security room, was within view.

A light was suddenly cast upon him from behind.

“FREEZE, TRESPASSER!”

Dib screamed, falling onto his side before rolling onto his back to stare up at a large, older man, wearing military gear and aiming a torch at Dib's face.

The older man scowled, “What's your name, son?”

“Uh... D-Dib... Dib Membrane...” Dib answered. He didn't see a point in lying, not when he looked almost exactly like his father, who EVERYONE knew.

“Membrane, eh?” The man raised a brow, “What's a boy like you doing breaking into wholesome malls that done no wrong?”

“I-I'm sorry, I wasn't going to steal anything, I swear!” Dib tried to explain, cautiously sitting up, “I came looking to speak to someone... Maybe you know them?”

“Boy, there's no one other than me here. Now get up, you're coming with me.”

“Where to?”

“My office. I'm calling your father, I'm assuming he's that Professor Membrane, yes?”

“Yeah.” Dib sighed. He was going to have his ear screamed off. He got to his feet and reluctantly followed the larger man. “Listen, I was told there were zombies-”

The man whirled around on him, “Who told you?”

Dib put his hands up in surrender, “I'm not going to just answer ALL your questions. I want some answers.”

The man smirked, “Boy, you're in no position to be expecting answers.”

“I'm seventeen!”

“Fuckin' hell, younger than I thought.”

Dib frowned. “Clearly you know about the zombies too.”

“Course I know! They were my pet project!”

Dib faltered, “Wh-What?! Pet project?!”

The man clapped a hand on Dib's shoulder, “Son! I take the protection of this mall VERY seriously!”

“Who ARE you?”

“Name's Sergeant Slab Rankle!”

Dib blinked. This was the guy that Zim was creeped out by?

“Uh...” Dib trailed off, “Hi?...” He shook his head, “I mean-! What the hell do you mean by pet project? Where are you getting the bodies? How are you making them into zombies? What are you doing with them? Huh? Huh?!”

The Sergeant frowned at him, “Son, I'm not about to tell you squat. In fact, I dare say you know too much.”

Dib paled. “W-What...”

“I may toss you into the cell with all the other wannabe thieves that breached the walls of this beacon of materialism!”

“Huh?” Dib raised a brow.

“I may ALSO consider a trade. Your pops is the head of Membrane Labs, right? I'll tell you what you want to know, if you can help me in return.”

Dib eyed the man, “...With what, exactly?”

“I'm always looking to improve the security system of this mall! I've been protecting it long before you were a fetus in your mom's belly!”

“Um-”

“The zombies were part of my intricate security system, but they don't eat. Now they seem to be dying.... Again. I need something that'll keep the buggers going!”

“Wait wait wait,” Dib spoke, “What makes you think my dad would have something to help?”

“He's a man of science ain't he?”

“Well yeah, but-”

“Don't you wanna learn about the zombies?” Slab Rankle cooed, “You did break in here to ask questions.”

“Yeah, because one turned up at the hospital and later died, and I found two more outside tonight! You can't just dump bodies out in the open, it could cause a wide spread panic! And what on Earth are they infected with? Is it contagious? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to expose a potentially lethal infection to the public with this careless dumping of bodies?”

The sergeant frowned, “Boy you got a LOT of questions. Is that why your head is so big? It's so stuffed with questions?”

“No!” Dib snapped, “My head isn't-Oh for fucks sake.”

“Didn't your mom teach you not to cuss?”

Dib glared at the man.

“What do you say, son? I'll tell you all about my zombies, and you help me find a way to keep the buggers alive and in service!”

The young investigator was suspicious of this man, but he wanted answers, so he needed to play along.

“Alright... I can try to help.” Dib shrugged, “I can't make promises though!”

Slab Rankle frowned, “Well that's a darn shame-”

“I CAN,” Dib interrupted, “Guarantee a security system that will be unlike what you currently have, should the... zombie thing, fall through.”

Slab Rankle pouted in thought, “Guess I can consider it. I really like my zombies though, they're like a second family. The mall is my first family.”

Dib was starting to see why Zim found this man creepy. Reluctantly, he followed in step after Sergeant Slab Rankle, as the older man started walking.

“The sanctity of this mall is what drives me every day. Ensuring that no harm comes to it or the employees who sacrifice hours of their lives to provide a service.” He gestured to a row of shops, “From the humble kiosk, that offers small snacks and drinks, to the bodacious women's lingerie store. The noble shoe department, what would we do without it! And the games store, with it's dazzling screens of flickering fictions.”

“The display TV's?” Dib asked.

“These pillars of stone,” Slab Rankle patted one of the said pillars, “With their intricate designs painted onto their smooth and shiny surfaces, they stand tall and proud, carrying the higher floors of this wholesome land.”

Dib narrowed his eyes, “You're very... poetic... about this place.” His head suddenly turned to lock onto a motionless animatronic sitting near a trash can. It held a sign saying ''Thanks for Recycling!''. Dib could've have sworn he'd seen it's head move, like it was watching him.

“Ah, here we are!” Slab Rankle spoke, gesturing to the door labelled ''SECURITY''. He turned to Dib, “Come boy, I will bestow upon you my secrets that have kept this mall from falling into the bowels of crime.”

“That's a debatable line...” Dib said, “Grave robbing is a crime.”

“What do you mean?”

“These zombies. They used to be people. REAL humans, who were alive and a part of our society. Some of them may have even been our neighbours! How did you get their bodies?” Dib asked, “It's going to take a good piece of evidence to prove to me that you didn't just dig them up and steal them from their graves.”

The older man frowned, “Did you see any reports on the news about excavated grave sites?”

“Well, no-”

“Then I didn't steal them!” Slab Rankle placed his hands on his hips, glaring at Dib. “I'm about to pass on my security secrets to you, in return for some aid, and you're accusing me of grave robbing?”

Dib paled when the man begun to step towards him, and instinctively Dib moved back, trying to keep the space between them.

“It's not very nice to jump to conclusions without knowing the whole story, son. This mall is everything to me and I will do everything I can to defend it.”

“That's admirable... but _zombies_? Why zombies?”

“Everyone's scared of zombies!”

“Well yeah... if they're actually dangerous. I've been told these zombies are harmless.”

Slab Rankle raised a brow, “Who told you that? No one who has broken in here has ever left.”

“Wait, what!?” Dib gasped.

Suddenly, the alarms around them went off. Dib watched in amazement (and terror) as weapons of varying levels of destruction, suddenly sprung from their hiding places. Who hid a fucking rocket launcher inside a children's ball pit?!

The animatronic animals that stood near the bins came to life. Their eyes glowing red as their arms opened and revealed three-pronged claws. They rose up on mechanical legs and prepared to capture anything that crossed their field of vision.

Laser grids appeared in front of every shop, ensuring that if the intruder managed to evade everything else, they wouldn't get into any of the stores.

“What's happening?!” Dib panicked.

Slab Rankle smirked, looking around at his influence, “Some sorry fool has decided to try and penetrate this sacred building! Come son! Come bear witness to the power of my-”

The larger man was suddenly sent flying across the mall, and Dib gawked in shock as the attacker landed in front of him. Did Zim seriously just fly-kick a man that was eight times his own size? How strong were Irkens?!

“DIB! You need to get out of here!” Zim ordered, watching the human he'd just tackled.

“W-What the fuck Zim?! Why did you do that?! Did you trigger the security alert??” Dib snapped, glaring at alien, “And why are you out of your disguise?!”

“We don't have time for this! You need to leave!!”

Zim bristled as he watched the man finally get to his feet. Slab Rankle turned to face him, and paused.

“You! You came back!.. You look different...”

“Huh?” Dib asked, glancing between the two.

Slab Rankle pointed at Zim. “This fine young... man?... Was the only one in my entire history to have bested my security system. He was a worthy opponent! I offered him a partnership-”

“You asked Zim out?” Dib asked, failing to fight back a smile at the thought.

“Wha-No!” Slab Rankle spoke, “I asked him to join me in ruling over this mall! We would be protecting it together!”

Zim shuddered. “Zim wants NOTHING to do with this place. Or you. Because you're weird. Creepy, weird human creature.”

Dib giggled, “Ooh okay, because it kinda sounded like you asked Zim out on a date.”

Zim gaped at Dib.

“And I hate to tell you this but that guy loves only himself... So much that I'm pretty sure he fucks his reflection behind closed doors.” Dib laughed.

Zim choked. “WHAT THE FU-”

“Well, no. I saw someone worth having on the team and he turned down the offer.” Slab Rankle answered, looking unsettled. He turned to Zim (who looked ready to murder Dib on the spot). “You have come back! But if not to join me, then why? For that guy?” He gestured to Dib.

“I did come back for the Dib creature, but I've decided you can have him.” Zim hissed.

“You really can't take a joke, can you?” Dib asked.

“This is no time for comedy!” Zim snapped, then pointed at Slab Rankle. “How have you not realised this by now!”

“I know what you meant by what you said earlier, Zim...” Dib sighed, “The guy's eccentric, that's all.”

“NO!” Zim screamed, “HE'S THE WEREWOLF!”

-

“Okay, Zim,” Dib frowned, “Having excess body hair doesn't make someone a-”

“The wee man is right.”

Dib turned to the Sergeant. “W-What?”

Slab Rankle glared at them both. “I've never told anyone, so I'd like to know how you found out.”

“Like Zim would share his amazing detective skills with you!” Zim snarled, his antennae lowered, and he took a defensive stance.

“You're the fucking werewolf?! AND you've a basement full of zombies! What the hell is going on here?!” Dib demanded.

The pair watched the older man take a few confident steps towards them. He stopped, eyeing them both.

“Boy I don't think you could possibly begin to understand what's happening.”

“Try me!”

“I was ordered to take a week off by my employer, the manager of this establishment, so reluctantly I did. I decided to use my time off to do some research into keeping zombies alive, since mine were refusing to eat. It must be a side-effect from the syrum I gave them to change them from intruders to zombies-”

“Wait! The zombies were originally LIVING PEOPLE?!”

“Well.. yeah?... I told you, I ain't no grave robber.”

Dib snarled, “You fucking MURDERED a bunch of people!!”

“I dealt with societies scum! Those who broke into this building with ill intention! All intruders I apprehended were the only ones I used!”

“Y-You... Were you going to turn me, too?!”

“Oh, no. I have something else planned for you. I will get to that.” Slab Rankle said, “After my zombies turned, they lost their appetites. And unfortunately, as time went on they deteriorated, and died. You can imagine how annoying it's been to replace them. I only wanted a few to scare away future intruders, but it became a situation where every new would-be thief ended up becoming a new member of my undead family.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, and paced in front of Zim and Dib.

“This went on for a few years, and naturally, it was becoming more and more of a problem. What with having to create believable alibis to retain my innocence, as well as the tedious task of erasing the existence of my subjects previous lives. Despite my disgust for criminals, I took no pleasure in turning these people. I sought a solution, one that would allow me to keep my already-turned zombies alive, and end the need for constant replacements. Unfortunately, during my time off, I was bitten by some mangy wolf while hiking. I went to the hospital, got stitches, a rabies shot, all that... but shortly after I returned to protect this mall, I noticed that I was getting real hungry. As the nights went on, my hunger only got worse, and nothing I ate seemed to quell it.”

Slab Rankle stopped pacing, and stared at them.

“Then. I changed. I grew larger, hairier, angrier. Claws came out of my hands and feet, and my teeth became like knives. The only thoughts I had in my head was to consume something. I did have enough of a conscience to know I didn't want to eat people... but it was what I was craving!”

“You started eating the zombies...” Dib uttered in disbelief.

“I _tried_.” The older man corrected, “God damn it, I tried. I remember tearing into them and swallowing the chunks... but it came back up just as fast. It wasn't working for me! My zombies couldn't stay alive to serve me, and they weren't good enough to sate my hunger! I could feel myself losing to this feral beast within, and when I finally did... Well, I don't quite remember what occurred. I think I may have mauled someone, but they fought back and I ran off. I remember the taste though... It was like eating a piece of heaven.”

Dib thought back to Randy briefly. Was he a werewolf now, too?

“Just when I thought you couldn't get any creepier!” Zim hissed, baring his serrated teeth at the older man.

“I've not eaten for over a week. I keep trying to eat the zombies but I always throw up, so I've been getting rid of the bodies.”

“So it was you who gutted that female?” Zim asked.

“What?!” Dib snapped, glancing at Zim.

“I found one of his chew toys. Very much chewed up and very much alive.” Zim explained. “She is dead now.”

Dib turned back to Slab Rankle, glaring at him.

“My hunger remains.” Slab Rankle said, “Until tonight.”

Zim's antennae twitched in confusion, and he noticed Dib's paling complexion.

“I could smell fresh meat near by.” Slab Rankle eyed the young man. “I was hoping you'd help with the dying zombies, then I'd eat you after... Guess we're going straight to the main course.” He shrugged.

Dib started to back away fearfully. He had no idea how he was going to get himself and Zim out of this mall. He froze when the Irken took place in front of him, facing Slab Rankle.

“You cannot eat the Dib.” Zim stated.

Slab Rankle scoffed, questioning Dib, “You're gonna relay on a weird looking midget for protection?”

“FOOLISH CREATURE! You are looking at the finest that the Irken Armada has to offer!” Zim boasted.

Slab Rankle frowned, “You ain't one of those tiny people?”

“NO!” Zim snarled, “I'm IRKEN! An ALIEN!”

Dib gaped, “What are you doing Zim?!”

Zim smirked, glancing at Dib, “This night will end with one of us _dead_.”

Dib frowned, “...Me or you?”

“You idiot. Zim is referring to the Wrinkle beast.”

“Oh...Wait-”

“Aliens don't exist!” Slab Rankle scoffed.

Zim shot out his PAK legs, rising himself up into the air, towering over both humans. Slab Rankle's eyes narrowed for a moment, then widened at the realisation.

“Well, looks like I got me a dinner and a dessert!” Slab Rankle smirked. Much to their horror, the man suddenly begun to shift shapes from man to beast.

The Irken's antennae drew back, unsettled at what was occurring. He quickly turned to Dib, “LEAVE!”

“Wh-NO! I can't leave you with him! We need to get out of here and call the cops!” Dib snapped.

Zim glared at him, dropping to the ground and retracting his PAK legs.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Dib asked, watching as Zim reached behind to his PAK and pulled out the device he had been playing with at the dinner table earlier. “What is that?”

“An EMP grenade.” Zim explained, “When I activate this, all of the Wrinkle-creatures security measures will be deactivated. Use that window to escape!”

“An EMP? That'll knock out your PAK too!” Dib panicked.

“My PAK will function enough to keep me alive, I just won't be able to use my PAK limbs.” Zim explained. “I've fought without it before, so this is not new territory for me. Now go!”

“No, Zim! He's going to fucking maul you! I'm not leaving without-”

“THIS ISN'T UP FOR DEBATE YOU STUPID BRAT! NOW GET OUT OF HERE!” Zim yelled.

He then triggered the grenade and threw it into the air. Two seconds passed, before the grenade released several pulse waves, that rippled like water through the air. Every electronic it came into contact with instantly lost power and collapsed. Dib watched as all the automatic weapons, the laser grids, and the animatronics appeared to die on the spot. He glanced briefly at Zim, then quickly grabbed the Irken and made a mad dash for the exit.

“WHAT THE- RELEASE ZIM NOW!!” Zim screamed, struggling against the human. “ I HAVEN'T KILLED IT YET!”

Dib glanced over his shoulder, releasing a yelp of horror when he locked eyes with a huge werewolf, that charged furiously after them. The beast's fur was greyish white, like Slab Rankle's human hair. His transformation rid him of his clothes and whatever weapons he carried on his person, not that he needed any now. He was armed with razor sharp teeth and claws. His crazed, blood shot eyes terrified Dib.

Zim suddenly bit into his arm, causing Dib to yelp and stumble. Zim slipped from his arms and bolted towards the werewolf. He used his speed and size to his advantage, ducking the creature's attempts to bite and claw at him. In return, Zim managed to land a few of his own hits, though their damage was minimal.

Dib suddenly recalled that he had brought a regular hand gun with him, with some silver bullets. Silver bullets will cure Slab Rankle!

He quickly searched himself for the gun, but found it was missing. “NO! Where is it?!”

Dib looked back at the fight in time to catch Zim arming the gun. The little fucker had pick-pocketed it from him!!

Zim turned the gun on Slab Rankle and fired, just as the man-turned-monster swung a huge clawed hand at him in an upper-cut fashion. It connected with Zim's side, and claws sliced through his Invader uniform, tearing into the flesh of his back. Pink blood sprayed across the polished floor as the Irken released an agonising scream, and his tiny body was sent flying into a pillar, where he collapsed to the ground in a shredded and bloodied heap.

Dib had witnessed the entire thing unfold in slow motion. The hand gun was tossed in a direction he missed, because his only (reluctant) friend was now in serious need of back up. The werewolf closed in on the Irken, who was struggling to regain coherency. Dib ran towards them.

Slab Rankle towered over Zim, glaring down at the alien for a moment. When Zim returned the glare, Slab Rankle moved to finish him.

Arms locked around his throat and a weight fell upon his back. The arms constricted around his neck, and the werewolf begun to buck and thrash furiously. Dib held on with all the strength he had, while trying to (he hoped) choke out the beast.

Zim watched the pair from where he lay. His brain didn't seem to register anything other than the amount of agony he was in, and that something was seriously wrong. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his arms kept slipping under the pink blood pooling beneath his body. His legs didn't seem to respond to him at all.

He glanced back at Dib and Slab Rankle, and noticed that the beast's movements were dulling. Starved of oxygen, the werewolf finally collapsed, unconscious, but still very much alive.

Dib rolled off the creature's back, and lay gasping on the floor. He wasn't a strong guy, and choking a werewolf took a lot out of him. It wasn't over yet, and he knew it. The creature was alive, just subdued. He had a chance to get Zim and himself out. Despite his exhaustion, Dib forced himself to his feet, then stumbled over to the Irken.

“Oh my God, Zim! Oh god... Fuck!” Dib panicked, looking at the horrendous gashes on Zim's back. “We need to get you out of here!”

“Dib...” Zim panted through his agony, “...I can't move my legs...”


	7. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bros, hiding in a security room...

Dib's heart stopped. Did Zim seriously just say he was crippled?!

“Oh... Oh God... No! No no this isn't happening!!” Dib choked. He watched Zim grimace with every jolt of pain that fired through his tiny body, his gloved claws trying to burrow into the floor beneath them. Dib felt completely powerless and he was on the verge of crying.

“DIB!” Zim snapped the human out of his panic. He noticed the tears threatening to fall from the human's eyes, “I swear if you drop ONE of those horrid water beads I will pull your eyeballs out!!”

“How else am I suppose to react to finding out that my only friend's just been paralysed!” Dib sniffed.

“Again with the friend thing...” Zim hissed, then landed a glare at Dib, “And I've only been temporarily paralysed!”

“What do you mean?”

“My PAK is repairing the damage as we speak! I admit it's a LOT of damage, and I'll not regain the use of my legs for a while... but I have not permanently lost their use!”

“You'll... be able to walk again?”

“Yes, Dib.” The Irken grimaced.

Dib couldn't help the smile of relief, even when the Irken hissed at him.

“You wipe that look off your face!” Zim scolded.

Dib chose to ignore him. Instead, he decided to return to the matter at hand. “We need to move. Hang on.”

Zim watched the human stand up and look around the mall. “What are you looking for?”

“Something I can use as a stretcher.” Dib explained.

“What on Irk for?”

“I might not know much about first aid, but what I DO know is you NEVER handle someone with a back injury. They need to be placed on a flat, firm surface, and stabilised before they're moved.”

“Zim needs no stretcher! I don't need ANY assistance!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “You're in no position to be refusing any help, you fucking moron.”

The human suddenly ran off around a corner.

“...Dib?...”

Zim quickly glanced over at the werewolf, who had returned to his naked human form. The Irken gagged and averted his eyes. At least he was unconscious, though it didn't make Zim feel any less terrified. He was paralysed, his PAK was only at sixty percent operational (and forty percent of that was working to restore his severed spinal cord), and with no other weapon, he was an easy target.

Foot steps alerted him to Dib's return. Dib dropped to his knees near Zim, and spilled several items from his arms.

“What's with the bandages?” Zim asked, eyeing the dressings suspiciously. He then paled, “DO YOU PLAN TO DISSECT ZIM?!”

“No! In case you haven't noticed, you're bleeding everywhere!” Dib gestured to the growing pool of blood, “It's kinda scary how much blood is in your body.”

He lifted a skateboard he swiped from a toy store, “This'll have to do as a stretcher, it's the only thing I could find that'll work with your size.”

Seething at the idea of needing assistance from a human, Zim started trying to lift himself off the ground again with his arms. His lips drew back and his teeth grind together, trying his best to not cry out from the agony. Unfortunately it was a battle he lost, and Zim cried out as his arms buckled under him, and he collapsed into his own blood, a shaking and whining mess.

“Dude! Don't move! You'll make it-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DIB!” Zim screamed at him.

Dib flinched at the out lash, before a determined frown settled on his face. He reasoned with himself that the Irken's heightened aggression was due to the pain he was in, though as logical as that was, Dib found himself wishing he could knock the little shithead out cold. At least then, Zim wouldn't be in as much pain, and Dib wouldn't risk losing all his limbs trying to help him.

“Zim,” The human spoke, cautiously, “I'm going to dress the wounds, we need to try and stem that bleeding.”

Zim's antennae twitch was the only acknowledgement that he'd heard Dib, otherwise he had to force himself to accept the help.

“I'm not taking my suit off.” Zim hissed.

“I wasn't gonna ask, I just hope your base has some super powered antibiotics, you're going to need it.” Dib replied, taking great care to dress the gashes on the aliens back. He was also trying to move fast, because neither of them were sure how much longer Slab Rankle would remain unconscious.

Having done what he could to dress the wounds, Dib swallowed, knowing the next step was going to hurt.

“I need to move you onto the skateboard. I'll carry it once you're on and secured.”

“Secured?”

“You can't move with a back injury, I'm gonna put a bandage around you and the skateboard to keep movement restricted.” Dib explained.

“I'm gonna kill him.” Zim hissed, “I'll break down every single cell in that foul creature's body, and I will torture each one until it ceases living!!!”

Dib chose not to entertain that threat with a response. Zim was already enraged enough, and they needed to get him out of there and back to his base. Hopefully the computer could help aid his recovery.

After having positioned the skateboard beside Zim, Dib planned his next move carefully.

“Okay.” He spoke, “I'm going to scoop you up with both arms, and place you on the skateboard. I'll try to move as gently as possible. Can you PLEASE try not to claw my eyes out?”

“I make no promises.”

Dib frowned, before kneeling by Zim's side and carefully moving his arms into position. “Okay, three... Two... One!”

Placing one arm under Zim's hips, and the other just above Zim's PAK (below the back of his neck), Dib carefully lifted the wounded Irken. He needed to be fast too, though it was incredibly difficult. Zim's eyes had slammed shut and his lips drew back into a silent snarl, his claws clenching at the air. The movement jarred his injury and he wanted nothing other than to grab the closest thing to him and rip it to pieces in a bloody frenzy.

Zim then felt himself being placed on something solid, and the arms under him retreated. He realised he was holding his breath, and started inhaling shaky gasps of air.

“The worst part is over,” Dib spoke, “I'm gonna secure you now, then we can get the hell out of here.”

He begun wrapping a bandage around the Irken, securing him to the skateboard. Satisfied that Zim was ready for transport, Dib turned to pack up the items. A movement caught his attention, and he paled as he watched Slab Rankle staggering to his feet.

“Shit!!” Dib panicked, throwing everything down and turning to Zim, “Okay, new plan – We need to hide!”

“What? Why?” Zim asked.

“Slab Rankle is waking up!!” Dib replied, moving both arms under the skateboard, then carefully lifting it (and the Irken tied to it), and making a run for the security room. He was thankful that the security door's code access had been taken down by Zim's EMP grenade, so all he had to do was open the handle. It was easier said than done, but Dib managed to get the door open. He kicked it open wider, then carried Zim over to the control panel. Placing the skateboard down gently, Dib turned back to the door and closed it. He begun turning all the locks on it, hoping it would provide additional protection.

When all the locks on the door were secured, Dib backed up, staring at the door. He turned to the CCTV screens lining the walls, finding them all to be screens of static.

“How long does that EMP last?” Dib asked, glancing at Zim.

Zim swallowed, wincing against the pain, “I built that particular EMP to last for one hour.”

“One hour?!”

“I had other plans for it!” Zim defended, “But I wasted it trying to get you out of here!”

“If I HAD left, you'd be DEAD now!” Dib snapped back.

“If you HAD left when I said so in the start, my PAK would still be one hundred percent operational and I would have done away with the Slab Beast by now!!” Zim yelled back.

“WHY do you want to kill him so badly?!”

“BECAUSE HE REPLACED ZIM!”

Dib froze. “Huh?”

“You used to be scared of me!” Zim hissed, “But now... That smelly drooling mutt scares you more than me! I won't surrender my place without a fight!”

Dib stared at him, “You're jealous.”

“ZIM IS NOT JELLY!” The Irken screamed. How he wished he wasn't immobilised right now, between his spine being severed and being tied to a board with wheels. He really wanted to maim something. Or someone.

Dib rolled his eyes. “You attention-whoring little fucker. You nearly got yourself killed JUST so you could be scarier?”

Zim pouted. “I'm not DEAD yet!”

Dib pinched the space between his eyes.

“Wanna know what would be even SCARIER for me?” Dib asked.

Zim gave him a sideways glance.

“Right now, I'm scared of losing someone I consider a friend. I'm scared of that more than Sergeant Slab Rankle because I've never had a friend before, and now that I do, I don't want to lose that.”

Zim rolled his eyes, “We aren't FRIENDS, Dib-stink.”

“Look, I get that friendship is something that goes against your cultural beliefs and whatnot, but right now, put that shit aside and maybe focus on cooperating with me, just this once.”

“What do you expect me to DO?!” Zim snapped, “I'm literally paralysed from the waist down AND you tied me to a board! The only thing I can do, other than speak, is slap whoever gets close enough for me to reach! Speaking of, come here, I need to hit you.”

“No! We can throw hands another time!”

“FINE!” Zim hissed. He glanced around the room, and his eyes lit up when he saw a can of soda. He pointed. “Gimme that!”

Dib looked at the can, then grabbed it and handed it to Zim. “Do you need me to open it? I don't know if there's any straws here.”

“No no, I got this.” Zim answered, studying the can for a moment.

After a beat, he suddenly chucked it at Dib's head.

“AAGH!!” Dib cried out, the second the can connected with his head. He slammed a hand over the quickly-forming bump, “What the fuck was that for!?”

“YOU WOULD NOT LET ZIM HIT YOU!!” Zim screamed at him.

Dib glared at him as he tried to sooth the throbbing bump on his head, then he noticed Zim's antennae twitching furiously. “What?”

“He's moving...” Zim said, cryptically.

“Who? Slab Rankle?”

Zim stared at the locked security door nervously. “We're trapped in this room.”. It wasn't a question, he made an observation. “You've doomed us BOTH, Dib!”

Growing increasingly anxious, Dib quickly took position in front of Zim, and faced the door. He saw the handle of the door jiggle. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, as a muffled voice spoke.

“I know you boys are in there! Don't think you're safe, I've got more than one way into that room!” Slab Rankle snarled, then added, “Can you at least toss me a new pair of pants? My other pants are in pieces.”

Zim glared at the ceiling, “That isn't an image I wanted to see before I die.”

“You're not gonna die!” Dib scolded, then turned to the door. “Go buy a new pair, there's plenty of shops out there!”

“Ya brats can't stay in there forever!” Came a muffled reply.

Silence fell. The duo listening carefully for any evidence that Slab Rankle was still at the door. He didn't speak anymore, but they couldn't see if he was still there or not, and they didn't want to risk opening the door.

“He's leaving...” Zim whispered, his antennae flicking occasionally with every minute sound it picked up.“Sneakily...”

Dib looked at the CCTV screens, “I'm wishing that EMP didn't knock off all the cameras...”

“That's what EMP's do, idiot. They target everything electrical. Irken PAKs are only immune to EMP grenades to a degree, but the pulse waves can still cause us problems.”

Dib pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket, and frowned. “Even my phone's down.”

“Yep. We're going to die in here. Dib-Stink, get a writing instrument-”

“A pen?”

“And take down Zim's magnificent thoughts.”

“I'm not helping you write a Will.” Dib said.

“ITS NOT A WILL!” Zim snapped, “It is my final thoughts! A Will would imply I plan to leave possessions to those closest to me. I have no intentions of doing that because I do not have close ones, not that I ever needed them to begin with!”

Dib rolled his eyes.

“Oh, no. I do have something for the Dib creature..” Zim said. When Dib raised a brow, Zim flipped him off.

“...That doesn't work as well when you only have two fingers.” Dib commented.

The Irken looked at his hand, then dropped it with an irritated sigh, scowling at the ceiling.

Dib looked around the security room that they were trapped in. Now that the immediate threat wasn't so... immediate, they needed to come up with a plan.

The room wasn't suffocatingly small. CCTV screens (that were currently useless) lined the wall facing the door. The desk in the room was large, housing a computer, a printer, a wounded Irken, and other basic office utensils. To the right of the door, there were a few lockers, and a ''LOST & FOUND'' box that had a few coats, a teddy bear, and a shoe. To the left, there was a weapon cabinet, a first aid box, and the control panel for the security features within the mall.

Dib bee-lined for the weapon cabinet, and quickly discovered it was locked. “Damn it!”

“What?” Zim asked.

“There's a locked weapons cabinet in here! And I'm pretty sure Slab doesn't keep the keys in the office.” Dib frowned.

“Let Zim see!” Zim ordered.

“How? You're tied to a board, and I'm not about to untie you and hoist you up!”

“Carry the board to the storage unit!” Zim explained, exasperated.

Dib huffed, before reluctantly complying with the demands. He carefully scooped up the skateboard again and brought Zim over to the cabinet. He watched Zim study the lock for a moment. The Irken then lifted his arms (grimacing in pain as he moved), and pulled the glove off of one hand. He then angled a single claw into the lock, picking around at it before the lock clicked, and the door came loose.

“You just picked a lock with one claw! Holy shit!” Dib gasped.

Zim re-gloved his claws. “Yes! Even in his currently incapacitated state, Zim is amazing!” Zim bragged, as the human placed the skateboard back on the desk.

“Cap the ego-stroking, we need a plan.” Dib replied, opening the cabinet and studying the arsenal inside. Dib should have been surprised to find combat shotguns and boxes of ammunition, but with all the other security measures he'd seen, the shotguns paled in comparison.

Dib sighed, “I really don't want to have to kill him... He's still human. He should be detained and charged in a court... after he's been cured.”

“You don't have to kill him. I'll do that. Zim will do that with glee!” Zim answered. “Dib doesn't have to worry about killing the Were-Wrinkle.”

“I can't let you kill him either, Zim!” Dib argued.

“THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL OPEN THE DOOR, STUPID!” Zim hissed, “HE WILL KILL US IF WE DO NOT KILL HIM FIRST! And he has MORE reasons to kill us! It isn't just about him having the hungeries! We KNOW too much now! He will want to silence us! Use that fat head of yours!”

Dib realised that Zim was right. Slab Rankle wasn't going to stop until they were both dead.

“We could call the police-”

“And they will listen to a fellow security officer before they listen to a human that broke into a mall.” Zim interrupted, “Earth's law enforcement is PATHETIC!”

“I... I can't let him die.”

Zim narrowed his eyes, “Have you developed feelings for that weirdo?” He shuddered, “EW!”

“NO! The problem I'm having here is killing him goes against what I stand for. I'm meant to be protecting the Earth, and the people living on it! What kind of protector am I if I turn around and kill Slab Rankle, when the werewolf thing can be cured?... The borderline lust he has for this Mall... I'm not too sure about.” Dib cringed.

“If you don't kill him, and if he doesn't get to us,” Zim explained, slowly, “What's stopping him from leaving this facility in search of other prey? Sometimes you need to make a sacrifice.”

Dib frowned, “....You're right-”

“OF COURSE I AM RIGHT!” Zim hissed, “Now gimme whatever weapon is inside that cabinet. Zim has no quarrel with blood on his hands!”

“But the werewolf mutation is still something that can be cured!” Dib argued.

Zim growled. “USELESS, FOOLISH, IDIOT MEAT CHILD! The longer we remain in here, debating your moral compass and how STUPID it is, the sooner that brute will escape into the streets! How many of your fellow smelly Earthlings must be eaten before you accept what must be done!?!”

Dib stared at the Irken for a moment. “...You're starting to sound like YOU care about who might be mauled.”

“Oh no, I couldn't care less.” Zim shrugged, “I'm just trying to convince you to let me kill that jerk.”

Dib spluttered, “W-What?! You fucking asshole!”

“LOOK WHAT HE DID TO ME!” The Irken snarled.

“You said your PAK was healing the wounds!”

“That doesn't mean I ENJOY being immobilised and in agony! Zim demands retribution, and whether you like it or not, I. Will. Have. My. Revenge.” He hissed. “Even if you cure him, I will still hunt him down and end his existence! The severing of Zim's spine will NOT go unpunished!”

The human turned and stomped across the room, pacing back and forth, his fists clenching open and closed at his sides.

He really did not want to be forced to kill another human. Slab Wrinkle was a bizarre man, and Dib didn't agree with his zombie project. Zim did have a point though, the longer they remained in hiding, the more likely Slab Rankle, driven by hunger, would escape the Mall, and hunt down any human that happened to be out late. Killing one werewolf could save loads of people from dying, or becoming infected.

“Okay Zim...” Dib hesitated, “I'll let you kill Slab Rankle-”

“FINALLY!”

“On TWO conditions.” Dib said firmly.

“ZIM DOES NOT BARGAIN!” Zim snapped.

“If you want to kill Slab Rankle then you're gonna have to make an exception this time.”

Zim glared at him. “What is the Dib's demands?”

“One. You're not killing him slowly. Do it fast. No torture.”

“FUN SUCKER!”

“Two. You're going to help me create a cure that isn't a silver bullet. I don't think Randy will be up for getting shot.”

“Who?” Zim asked, then quickly recalled, “Oh! The human with the weird name. Wait! He's a werewolf too?!”

“I'm hoping not,” Dib sighed, “... but there's a strong possibility that he is one. If I can't cure Slab Rankle, then I'd like to try and cure him of the mutation.”

Zim pouted in thought, “A fast death for the Wrinkle wolf... and a cure for the man with terrible parents...”

“Um.. Yeah. In return, you can kill Slab Rankle... before he hurts more people.”

The Irken sighed, “I suppose the terms are acceptable. I was expecting you to be wanting information about my people or what my next plan for world conquest is!”

“As much as I'd like either of those, dealing with a starving werewolf comes first. How soon will your PAK heal your spine?”

“Oh, that's going to take days to heal.” Zim said, clearly frustrated.

“We don't have days!”

“I'm aware! I don't wish to spend days trapped in this room, staring at a ceiling and listening to your horrible face noises.”

Dib rolled his eyes, “And I'm not big on being stuck in here with some prick who throws soda cans at people, so do you have any ideas?”

“I do, though it does involve me being moved about and the idea isn't particularly favourable.” The Irken frowned.

“Lets hear it.”

“I will ride in your back pack, and together we will hunt down the Slab. The plan has several complications.”

“Most of them involve possibly making your injuries worse.” Dib said, looking unimpressed with the idea. “I'm not too keen on the idea of carting you around in a back pack, while you have a serious spinal injury. It wouldn't matter how secured you are, gravity will pull your weight down on your injury if you sit up right.”

“Yes, I'm aware of that.” Zim folded his arms across his chest, “Another idea I have would require us to make it to my base...”

“However there's a chance he's out there waiting for us to try and leave.” Dib added.

“Exactly.”

The young man sighed, “We're pretty fucked here, huh?”

“Until my PAK fully restores my spine and I regain the use of my lower limbs. Yes.”

There was a sudden slam at the door, causing both man and alien to jolt. Dib quickly grabbed a shotgun and stood in front of Zim, aiming at the door again. They both listened nervously as the door was repeatedly slammed into by something heavy.

The sounds of something sniffing along the edges of the door could be heard, followed closely with an animalistic snarl.

“That's weird...” Dib whispered.

“Heh?”

“It sounds like he changed back into a werewolf...” Dib answered, keeping his voice as low as possible. “It suggests that he has control over when he changes... That's not usual for werewolves. Their changes normally coincide with full moons.”

“Who cares how often that cretin can shape-shift?” Zim hissed, “What is important is he is back, as a monster, and he can smell you!”

“Me?!” Dib snapped, “You're the one bleeding everywhere!”

“But he wants to eat _you_!” Zim reminded.

“And chances are, he'll have you for a dessert!”

“Zim is no pudding!” The Irken growled.

“I didn't call you a pudding! I'm saying that once he's eaten me, he's gonna chow down on you after.”

They listened as the shuffling beyond the door became distant. A bone chilling howl echoed through the mall, only slightly muffled by the door. Dib shivered.

“We really need to get out of here...” He swallowed, taking a cautious step towards the door. Feeling sure the werewolf had cleared off, he lowered the shotgun.

“I have an idea...” Dib started, “What if I sneak out and-”

“You're going to LEAVE me here?!”

“No!” Dib argued, “...Not exactly! I mean, I'd make sure you were secure in this room before I left. I was gonna suggest that I sneak out and try to get Gaz to bring dad's car around... Maybe then we can move you to your base.”

“I liked my idea better.” Zim huffed.

“Your idea risks further damage to your spine!”

“Irken PAKs can bring us back from _death_ , foolish creature!” The Irken folded his arms.

“Thats not-wait, really?” Dib asked, “Those things can actually reanimate the dead?”

“Eh.. well... how the Irken dies does play a big part.” Zim hesitated, “The point is you continue to insult me by underestimating my species' ingeniousness!”

Dib rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. We go with your plan. Pop you into my back pack, and you cover my back while I try to get us the hell out of here. That's it?”

“After that, we either hunt down the Slab beast, or we head for my base. There is a mecha exo-skeleton frame in the lab that I've been making some modifications to.”

Dib sighed. “Fine, let's do this.” He said reluctantly.


	8. Emergency Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of the line...

The human moved about the small room with urgency, taking items from the first aid box to secure Zim to the skateboard more, so that when the board was sitting up right inside the bag, the Irkens body weight won't be pulled down against his wounded spine. He emptied his back pack of it's books, and delicately moved Zim into it.

He then grabbed a second shotgun from the cabinet, some extra ammo, and turned to Zim.

“You're not gonna shoot me in the back of the head, are you?” Dib asked.

“As much as I would like to, it would be more beneficial given the circumstances, to keep the Dib-stink alive. So no, I'm not going to turn the weapon on you while we make our escape.” Zim answered.

Dib hesitated, then handed the shotgun to the Irken, “It's heavy so-”

Zim held the weapon with no issues.

“Okay. Irkens are stronger than they appear.”

“OF COURSE WE ARE!” Zim bragged, “This primitive technology is a twig!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Look, just don't open fire at anything that moves. You're gonna be riding my back and I don't wanna end up deaf.”

“Zim is surprised you are not deaf already, since you seem to make a habit of blasting that wretched noise device in your dorm room at disgustingly high levels.”

“To be fair, if you could hear what I hear from the guys in the room next to us, you'd be blasting music at full volume too.” Dib defended. He grabbed the straps of the back pack, hesitating, “Okay, ready for this?”

“Zim is always ready!”

As carefully as he could, Dib lifted the bag and slipped his arms through the shoulder straps quickly, though the movements caused the alien to cry out in pain. In a panic, Dib rushed to position the bagged Irken on his back, then closed the buckle on the straps across his chest, securing the bag to his back.

“You said you were ready!”

“SILENCE!” Zim hissed, grimacing at the agony he was in. He took a few deep breaths, steeling himself, “We... We don't have time for this! Now move!”

The human stepped towards the security door, pressing his left ear against it and listening carefully.

“Why have we stopped?”

“I'm trying to hear if he's out there! Now shss!” Dib scolded.

“Moron!” Zim hissed, “My hearing is far greater than your caveman ears!”

“Well if you're so advanced how about helping out and listening for him?” Dib snapped.

“He isn't out there! Now go!”

Dib unlocked the door, and peeked out. The other side of the door bore evidence of an assault. Claw marks etched into it's surface and the surrounding wall. Glancing around, Dib could visually confirm that Slab Rankle wasn't there.

He took off in an awkward jog, trying to move fast, but also trying not to jarr Zim's spinal injury from his movements. Dib stopped to creep behind a pillar, peeking out around it before pressing onwards to the exit door he originally broke in through.

Zim found himself struggling to focus on the simple, yet extremely important, duty of being a watch-out. The human's movements sent frequent bursts of sharp, throbbing pain right through his tiny body. Where his spine was severed, it felt like he'd been stuck with a red-hot rod, and the torturer wielding it gave the damn thing a twist, enhancing his suffering. His nerves were firing repeatedly, the pain from them feeling like he was being whipped by a cable that has had its wires exposed, so each hit was accompanied by an electric shock. The slashes from the werewolf's claws stung against the bandages, which were soaked with blood. It was a concoction of torment that made him dizzy, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He was so consumed by his suffering, he didn't register the welcoming cool breeze from the night sky.

Dib (unaware of how badly Zim had deteriorated) smiled in relief as he stared up at the night sky. “Oh man, I've never been more glad to-”

A snarl cut him off. Dib's heart shot up into his throat. “Z-Zim..?”

The Irken didn't respond. Dib cast a glance over his shoulder to see what Zim was doing, when his eyes locked with Slab Rankle.

The werewolf was standing a few meters from them, his greying muzzle dripping with blood.

Dib twisted around, turning the shotgun towards Slab Rankle. “Z-Zim! What're you doing back there?”

Zim was drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain he was in was becoming too much for him to be stoic over. His hearing didn't pick up Dib's words, every sound was badly distorted and nothing made sense. His guts churned dangerously, and his vision vanished. His PAK was screaming at him, but he couldn't hear it, his organic brain only able to register that he was in excruciating pain and was tethering on the edge of unconsciousness.

The shotgun that he held in a death grip, slipped away as Zim's body finally surrendered to darkness. As soon as the weapon hit the ground, it went off.

The noise that rattled through the streets, bounced off the walls in a deafening echo that travelled further into the city. It triggered Dib's fight or flight, and the young paranormal investigator broke off into a furious run. Slab Rankle had been startled by the sound of the shotgun firing, and had a moment of confused stumbling, before he registered his prey running, and with a snarl, he gave chase.

Dib ran as fast as his legs could move. His muscles burned with the exertion but his adrenaline was in full swing and he was not going to stop until he was safe, or dead. He worried about Zim. Why had the Irken not warned him about Slab's approach? Why wasn't he replying, and why the hell did he drop the shotgun?! Dib raced on in a blind panic, trying to get to Zim's base. He could hear the snarls and pants of the beast pursuing them, and his eyes watered in fear. They needed to get to safety! They _had_ to!

Everything blurred past Dib, and in his desperate bid to escape, he had unwittingly ran out in front of traffic. Tyres squealed to a halt and horns were honked by furious drivers as the lanky teen bolted across the road. A few other vehicles swerved to avoid a collision (some weren't lucky), and one truck hit Slab Rankle, sending the beast flying several feet. The driver gripped his steering wheel and gaped, before climbing out to check on the animal.

“Holy shit that's a big dog!” He stared in awe, watching as the dazed creature staggered to it's feet. “Hey good boy! It's okay, let me take you to a vet!”

Citizens nearby that had wandered onto the road to check on the occupants of the vehicles were treated to the horrific scene of the truck driver being ripped to pieces, and everyone ran screaming in panic. Slab Rankle tossed the limbs in different directions before setting off after Dib.

Dib had taken refuge in a garden shed, the moment he noticed that Slab Rankle had been hit by a truck. He knew he should have kept going, but he was gravely concerned for the Irken and his lack of, well, anything.

Slipping the bag off his back, Dib placed it as carefully as he could on the floor and looked at Zim. “Zim? Zim, can you hear me?”

The alien was unconscious and looking terrifyingly pale.

“God damn it Zim, you can't die on me!” Dib hissed, “... I have no idea if your body will explode after you die, and I don't wanna have to explain to GIR why I've come home covered in your guts!”

There was a sudden flash from the Irkens PAK, and Dib leaned around him to look at the bizarre device. A robotic voice spoke.

“ _PAK functionality at seventy percent.”_

“W-What?” Dib asked.

He didn't receive an answer.

“Zim, what's going on with your PAK?”

“ _PAK functionality at seventy-five percent.”_

The human frowned in confusion, when an idea struck. He felt around himself and quickly located his mobile, which came to life when he activated it.

“I get it!” Dib smiled, “We're out of range of the EMP grenade, so our devices are beginning to work again!!”

“ _PAK functionality at eighty percent.”_

Dib quickly brought up his contacts and called his sister.

-

Her mobile rang for the fourth time, and Gaz growled into her pillow. Whoever was spam-calling her better have a plot in a cemetery because she was going to fucking end them.

Reaching out from under her blankets, Gaz grabbed the phone and answered it. “Whoever this is, you better start praying I don't find you!”

“It's me, Dib! Why didn't you pick up?!”

“Dib?... “ Gaz looked at her phone. Unknown Number. “Who's phone are you using?”

“My new one! Listen Gaz, this is urgent!”

“It better be. I was asleep and you know better than to wake me!” Gaz hissed.

“Zim and I found the werewolf!”

Gaz went silent.

“...Are you fucking serious? You're calling me for THAT?! I swear to fuck, Dib, the moment you get home I'm ripping your balls off and-”

“It nearly killed Zim!”

“What do you mean 'it nearly killed Zim'?” Gaz frowned, “Also, why do you care if Zim dies?”

“He's the closest thing I have to a friend okay? Look can we talk about this later, we are in a real bad position right now!”

“What's going on?”

Dib glanced down at the Irken, “We found out _who_ the werewolf is. Its the mall cop, Sergeant Slab Rankle! He attacked us but Zim fought back and... Well, he ended up getting crippled-”

“The fuck!? Where is Zim now?” Gaz asked.

“Still with me... except he's not responding anymore.” Dib peeked out the garden shed window, “Gaz I will explain everything in detail but right now I need you more than ever!”

“Should I call the cops?”

“No! I need you to get dad's car... Is dad home?”

“Yeah.”

“I need you to get his car and come get us! We're hiding out in a garden shed, not far from Zim's base, but Slab Rankle is hunting us and... I can't kill him, Gaz.” Dib choked, “Zim was gonna kill Slab Rankle, but... I think Zim is dying. I'm really fucking scared right now, and-”

“Calm down okay? I'm coming now!” Gaz answered as she jogged down the stairs and grabbed her father's car keys off the hook. “DAD, I'M BORROWING YOUR CAR!”

“HOLD UP DAUGHTER!” Membrane boomed, poking his head out from the kitchen, “It's late! And you haven't passed your driving test yet!”

“This is pretty urgent.” Gaz shrugged.

“How urgent?”

“....Science-y urgent?...”

“Oh! Well carry on then, but don't be too long, and wear your seat belt!” Membrane answered, returning to the kitchen.

Gaz lifted her mobile back to her ear, only to hear screaming coming from the other end.

-

Dib watched in terror as the beast clawed and bit at the shed door, trying to get into him and Zim. He had dropped the phone in a panic, reaching for the shotgun and taking aim, but he was frozen, both with fear, and reluctance. He didn't want to kill another human... Even if they had become a blood thirsty beast that was definitely going to kill him, and finish Zim off.

The Irken in question remained unconscious, with the only sign of any life coming from his PAK.

“ _PAK functionality at ninety-five percent.”_

The monotone voice went unheard, barely a whisper over the animalistic snarls, scratching claws, snapping wood, and a frantic heartbeat that Dib felt would burst from his chest, much like one of those creepy snake-like aliens from the movies.

At the last minute, Dib quickly decided to throw himself out of the window on the side of the shed. Part of him hoped it would draw the werewolf away from the Irken, though the voice of a much younger Dib, hoped it would be distracted _by_ Zim, so he could escape.

“ _PAK functionality at one hundred percent.”_

The device flashed twice.

“ _Initiating emergency protocol.”_

The Werewolf immediately spotted Dib and charged after the terrified young investigator. Slab Rankle swiped at him, and two of his claws sliced the back of Dib's right calf. With an agonised scream, Dib crashed into a heap on the ground. He rolled over onto his back just in time to be pinned to the ground by the beast, who's maw opened wide, readying for the final blow.

It never came.

Dib watched in horror as the werewolf suddenly disintegrated into literal dust, specks of which floated away softly in the breeze. He stared at where the beast used to be, before his vision focused on the shed.

Zim's body was hanging limply from the PAK, which appeared to be acting on it's own. It had extended its legs and carried it's host's organic body like a rag doll. An extra limb was protruding from the PAK, and at the end of it, an alien weapon.

“ _Threat neutralized.”_

The lifeless Irken was jostled about as the PAK legs carried his body towards Dib, and the fifth limb took aim at him. Dib froze.

There was a brief moment, before the PAK withdrew the weapon.

“ _No threats detected.”_

Dib hesitated, “....Z-Zim?...”

The device on the Irken's back suddenly turned and quickly scuttled away, taking its host with it.

“H-Hey! Wait!!” Dib called, and pushed himself to his feet. He was promptly reminded of the gashes on his calf, however, and collapsed again with a cry of agony.

“DIIIB?!”

Dib looked around.

“DIIIIIB!!”

“I'M OVER HERE, GAZ!” Dib called out.

Moments later, the purple haired sibling peered over the fence, before quickly climbing it and rushing to her brother's side, immediately seeing the blood from his open wounds. “What the hell happened?! Where's the werewolf?!”

“Zim killed him... I think it was Zim anyway...His PAK was moving on it's own.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Zim was unconscious...He was in real bad shape, Gaz...”

Gaz threw her brother's arm around her neck and helped him up. “I'm taking you to the hospital, where's Zim now?”

Dib frowned, “I... don't know...”


	9. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib tries to tidy up the aftermath, and tries to find out what happened to Zim.

Deep within a subterranean lair, a small device begun to flash.

“ _Re-activating!”_

The entire body of an Irken lit up as electric charges shot through it. Now conscious, the alien blinked, before slowly sitting up. The first thing Zim noticed was GIR, sitting on a chair next to his lab table. GIR was wearing a widowers veil and appeared to be sobbing into a tissue.

“What ARE you doing?” Zim asked, narrowing his eyes.

“MASTAH!” GIR screamed, his woeful face suddenly alight with the biggest smile, “YOU'S UNDEAD!”

“I wasn't dead to begin with, GIR!” The Irken hissed.

“OooooooOOOOoooohh....” GIR mused. He tilted his head. “You smelled dead.”

“LIES!!” Zim snapped, “ZIM DOES NOT SMELL OF DEAD!”

GIR stared at him, smiling.

“COMPUTER!” Zim called, “STATUS REPORT!”

There was a nasally sigh (how?) from the computer, before it began to speak.

“ **You returned to the base having sustained serious tissue trauma to your lumbar spine, with a complete separation of the vertebrae L4 and L5, and severed spinal cord. You had 4 deep lacerations across your back, one of which contributed to the spinal injury. You lost thirty percent of your overall blood count from the injuries. Your PAK function was compromised for a time, however it's history shows it regained full function and that's why you're alive today. You were deactivated for two weeks so that all available energy was directed towards your repairs. You are now fully recovered and-”**

“ _TWO WEEKS_?!” Zim screamed, “HOW DARE YOU DELAY ZIM FOR TWO WEEKS!!”

“ **Uh... Well, Master, you were critically injured...”**

“It was NOTHING! As you can see Zim is perfectly fine!”

To prove his point, Zim jumped off the table and hopped on the spot. GIR quickly copied him.

“ **Uh yeah, because your PAK brought you back to the base so I could begin assisting the repairs!”** The computer countered.

“LIAR!” Zim accused, “I do not have TIME for this! The Tallest MUST not be kept waiting any more! COMPUTER! Play all messages!”

“ **You don't HAVE any messages...”** The computer answered.

“Impossible! Check again!”

“ **Hmmm... Nope. Still nothing.”**

Zim frowned, “The Tallest haven't called AT ALL?”

“ **No.”**

The Irken pouted in thought, the shrugged, “They must be VERY busy!”

“ **Uh,”** The computer hesitated, **“The last time the Irken Armada was seen was before the Florpus Hole... Suppose... they got pulled into it?”**

“Pfft!” Zim spat, “Even if that WAS true....WHICH IT'S NOT!.... No Schmorpus Hole can beat the might of The Irken Armada! Though, it may explain why the Tallest are so busy! They're conquering the Chorpus Hole...”

“ **How did you get the name wrong TWICE?”** The computer asked.

“SILENCE!” Zim ordered, pointing at the ceiling. He sighed and smacked a hand against his forehead, “I suppose in the mean time I can return to the surface and use my amazing blending abilities to learn more ways to conquer this nasty muck world.” He then paled, “Oh! I've been missing for two weeks! The lecture slaves at the college will become suspicious!”

“NO THEY WON'T!” GIR smiled, “MARY TOLD THEM A STORY!”

Zim raised an antennae, “Eh?”

“ **The human, Dib, apparently produced an alibi for your absence in college, Master.”** the Computer added.

GIR nodded, “Mary said you got hit by a car! Tee hee!”

“I'm going to hit Dib with a car.” Zim snarled.

-

It had been two weeks since that terrifying night, when Dib and Zim not only managed to locate and identify the werewolf, but both almost died trying to defeat it.

Well. Dib wasn't sure if Zim survived. The wounds he sustained were horrendous, and despite the bandages, Zim bled continuously. Dib learned this when he had to come up with some explanation to the doctors at the hospital, why the entire back of his t-shirt and trench coat were saturated in a bizarre pinkish substance. It was clearly Zim's blood, but he told them it must've been from a paint bucket that had been in the shed, and Dib had bumped into it in his attempt to escape from the werewolf.

Speaking of. No one bought that what went on a rampage was a real werewolf. Dib was too exhausted to fight the false accusations for long, so he gave up trying to reason with the media, who decided that the animal was just a very big, and very angry dog. The Dog Warden was called in, but no one had been able to find it.

Dib had found out during his time in the hospital (recovering from surgery he had to have on his right calf muscles) that several other people had been mauled, and two people were killed. He decided that once he was released, he'd go on damage control, locate the victims, and try to cure them. They may not have contracted the mutation, but he didn't want to take that chance.

During their investigations of the mall, the cops found a basement full of green corpses. They immediately begun to suspect Sergeant Slab Rankle of multiple accounts of murder, but their manhunt has remained fruitless. Reviewing the security cameras yielded no results, as shortly after closing, they appeared to stop recording anything for a time. The cops were able to confirm that Dib was in the mall at one point, being escorted by Slab Rankle, but upon questioning, Dib explained that he had fallen asleep in a bathroom cubicle, and when he tried to leave, Slab Rankle thought he'd broken in. His lie got a few laughs at his expense, but it worked. The cops didn't seem to notice or care about the random pools of pink liquid, or the claw marks on the security door.

Thanks to his father's technology making up the majority of the hospital, as well as some additional medications his father supplied during Dib's hospital stay, Dib's wounds were mending fast, and after nine days, he was discharged from the hospital. He currently needed assistance walking, so he was given a crutch, and had some exercises to follow, to help his injured leg muscles regain their strength.

When he arrived to college, Dib was given a few curious glances from other students, but only a couple approached him. They wanted to know where the leprechaun had vanished. Dib was forced to lie for Zim, and explain that he'd been in a car accident.

The students quickly spread this information throughout the college. With the curse leprechaun gone, the students were free to do what they pleased – Including mercilessly taunt Dib.

Dib kept thinking about the Irken. He had tried numerous times to find out what happened to Zim, but the closest he was able to get was the front door. The Computer wouldn't say whether Zim was alive or dead, and drove Dib off the property when the human got pushy. As soon as GIR found out that Zim was badly wounded, he had retreated to the base and wasn't seen since.

-

Uneven footsteps (accompanied with the _click_ of a crutch) echoed through the rather empty college hallway. Dib limped his way to the library, carrying a few books in a brand new backpack. Apparently Irken blood was worse to wash out than human blood – When it came into contact with water, it dissolved his back pack!

The human stopped outside the library doors, adjusting the crutch so he could carefully elbow the door open, when suddenly something small and hard was thrown at his head.

“Oww!” Dib grimaced, looking down at the offending item. It was a toy car. “What the-”

“VICTORY! VICTORY FOR ZIM!!”

The proclamation echoed through the entire college, as the disguised Irken stood with his fists in the air in celebration. Dib only gawked. The little fucker was _alive_!!

Time seemed to freeze. Dib standing staring, and Zim standing in his little victory pose. The alien was the first to notice the weird atmosphere, and he glared.

“CEASE THE EYEBALLING THING, BEAST DIB!” He demanded.

Dib blinked, “Wh-... You're... You're actually alive?...”

“What kind of question is that? OF COURSE I AM!”

“Where have you been?!” Dib demanded, “I was starting to believe you fucking DIED! Your computer wouldn't tell me anything and I had no idea where you had ran off to!”

Zim rubbed his chin, “I need to remind myself to reward my computer.”

“Reward it for what?”

“Keeping the Dib out of my business!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “I just wanted to know if you were alive! The last time I saw you, you were pretty much dead!”

“ZIM CANNOT BE KILLED!” Zim scoffed, “And what's with all the questions?!?”

“Can you at least-” Dib's eyes locked onto the toy car lying at his feet, “Wait, why did you throw a toy car at me?”

“It has come to my invaluable attention that you claimed I was bested by a pathetic earth machine!!” Zim hissed, “WE BOTH KNOW YOU ARE LYING!”

“Well... duh... I _had_ to. The tutors were asking questions. I pretty much covered you, so I think you owe me.” Dib countered, bending down to pick up the toy car.

“HAH!” Zim laughed, “Zim owes NOTHING! It was YOUR choice to mislead your fellow morons.”

Dib was looking at the toy car in his hand, ignoring the alien. “Huh... this toy looks exactly like my car. That's pretty funny...Where'd you get it?”

“It was parked outside your house two weeks ago.” Zim answered.

Dib's jaw dropped.

“Wh-! Th-!... Wha-!!... YOU SHRANK MY CAR?!” He yelled, “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SHRINK MY CAR?!”

“I also fixed it.” Zim shrugged.

“How the FUCK am I supposed to drive it like this?!” Dib snapped, waving the tiny car at Zim.

“Eh. The Dib will figure something out!” Zim waved.

The human huffed, “Ugh, you know what? Fine. I will fix this.” He pocketed the tiny car and turned to enter the library.

“Heh?! Where are you going?!”

“To study. I don't have the time nor the patience to deal with you right now!” Dib snapped.

Zim watched as the big-headed fool fumbled to open the door. It seemed that he had been considerably injured too, though the Irken wasn't sure what injuries the human had sustained. He was certain that the display of incompetence he was forced to watch was something he did not want to witness again. It was so pathetic.

Deciding he'd had enough watching the idiot, Zim barged between Dib and the door, and shoved it open with such force it slammed off the wall. The pair were greeted by numerous, wide eyes, all alarmed at the sudden bang that just ripped through the quiet.

Dib gawked awkwardly at everyone, who stared back. Eyes panned down to the Irken, and several faces turned whiter. Zim stood with his hands on his hips, puffing his little chest out, as he met everyone's looks with a challenging glare. Each set of eyes he locked on to quickly averted from him, in an unconscious show of submission.

“Did you REALLY have to slam the door?!” Dib hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough not to cause further disturbance.

“Your pitiful display of independence was infuriating. The Dib losing to a door! Tch!”

Dib limped past the little jerk and went into a corner of the library, setting his back pack on the desk. He pulled out a chair and sat down as Zim approached, “Yeah well we aren't all blessed with super fast healing abilities. My dad's science can only do so much.”

“What happened to you anyway?”

“Ugh,” Dib huffed, then rolled up the right leg of his pants to show the wounds to Zim, “Slab got me when I tried to run. Ligaments and nerves took considerable damage, and don't even start me on how the muscles faired. Point is this is taking it's time to heal despite my dad's 'speedy heal-y' serums. Plus I've got to deal with physiotherapy to rebuild the strength in my leg.”

Zim studied the wounds for a moment, before he shrugged, “Such superficial wounds would have healed within the day if you were a mighty Irken.”

Dib fixed his pants leg back into place, “Whatever.”

He then turned his attention to the back pack and pulled out a couple of books and some papers.

“What is the Dib studying now?” Zim asked, climbing onto a chair to get a better view of the documents.

“I'm gathering the information of the other victims,” Dib explained. He gestured to the papers, “I had to hack into the hospital records and print out the most recent victims of 'feral dog bites'. I couldn't visit them in person.”

“Why not?”

“The hospital found the body you cut up and they're not too happy about that. Dad managed to convince them not to sue me for misconduct but I've also been banned from the hospital. That was entirely your fault, by the way.” Dib hissed.

“I recall you asking me to disconnect that body!”

“Disconnect him from the MACHINE, not dismember his limbs!”

“Your choice of words has lead to this, so it is your fault.” Zim folded his arms and pouted.

Dib glared at him.

“ANYWAY,” He continued, “I've had to hack into the records to get these names and addresses. I'll be visiting each one after college, and hopefully I can convince them to come to my dad's lab so I can treat them for any possible werewolf mutations they may have contracted.”

Zim suddenly jumped up onto the chair next to Dib, grabbed the documents from the human, and hopped off onto the floor.

“Hey-!”

“Rather than watch you loose to more doors, I will locate and retrieve these humans. Rendezvous at my base tonight!”

“Your base?” Dib asked, “Do you realise that you're pretty much going to expose your own lair?!”

Zim waved dismissively, “Do not doubt my capabilities, Stink Child!”

“I'm seventeen!”

“Still a child compared to me.”

Dib rolled his eyes, “At least I ain't the height of a child!”

A book was promptly thrown at his face.

-

As planned, Dib arrived outside the purple and green house in his car. His father helped to restore the vehicle to it's original size after Dib explained that Zim had shrank it, and the Professor laughed it off as a prank between friends, before expressing interest in the technology that Zim used.

Past encounters with the gnomes lining the garden taught Dib to be wary of the cursed little garden ornaments, and it was impossible to miss how they rotated as he cautiously passed them, following his every move with their creepy, dead stare. Tempting him to make the wrong move.

He kept his eyes locked on the ornaments as he raised a hand and was about to knock on the door, when it was swung open suddenly.

“MARY!” GIR screamed, “DID YOU FIND THE MUFFIN MAN?!”

“Uhh... No?...” Dib answered.

“Awwh...” The blue-eyed robot sighed, “MASTER'S HAVING A PARTY!”

“A... Party?”

GIR nodded, “He invited lotsa friends!” He reached up and grabbed Dib's trenchcoat, pulling the human into the house. “I gots'ta bring you to the party now!”

Dib allowed the robot to lead him down into the bowels of the base, and it wasn't long until they reached one of the laboratories. The walls of this room were lined with tanks, some empty, and others holding Earth specimens in various states of dissection.

The Irken was in the centre of the room, undisguised. He was working with a control panel, and then seven tables lowered from the ceiling. Each one had a human strapped to it.

Dib gaped at the sight, but before he could protest, Zim spoke.

“They're not conscious.”

“What do you mean?”

Zim approached one human, who Dib recognised as Randy, “I sedated each human after I was able to locate and isolate them. They'll remember this as nothing but an unconscious hallucination.”

“A dream?”

“Whatever you humans call it.”

Dib stared at the forms, “I don't know about this... I didn't want to abduct anyone!”

“Idiot! Do not take credit for Zim's abilities!” Zim hissed, then he suddenly screamed, “GIR! STOP THAT!”

Dib turned to find that GIR had mounted one of the unconscious humans, and was drawing on their face with markers. He stopped drawing as soon as Zim scolded him, and dropped the offending weapon when the Irken approached.

“We cannot leave evidence that these humans have been taken, GIR!”

“I wanna make them pretty!” GIR argued, pouting angrily.

“You can draw on the Dib!”

Dib faltered, “What-”

“EEEEEHEHEHEHEH!!” GIR screamed, grabbing his markers and charging at Dib, who backed up into a corner.

“WAITWAITWAIT!!” Dib panicked, “Can I at least sort this out first?” He gestured to the unconscious humans, “I just need to isolate the infection, reverse engineer a cure from it, and use it to help them! I'll let you draw on me after, okay??”

“Do you pinky promise?” GIR asked.

“Wha-... How-... You don't have pinky fingers...” Dib frowned in confusion.

GIR gestured to his singular antennae, “Pinky promise!”

Dib sighed in defeat, then hooked his pinky finger on the robot's antennae, “I promise.”

“Yay!” GIR beamed. “I'm going to make waffles!”

“NO-” Zim panicked, but GIR had already bolted from the room. “Quick Dib-beast! Manufacture a cure and get rid of these beasts from my lab before GIR returns with waffles!”

Dib approached the Irken, looking confused, “Honestly the waffles sound better than being a canvas for a hyper robot.”

“Easy for you to say! I've been force fed waffles since I've woken up and I'm NOT about to vomit for the fifth time today! Now pick up the pace before GIR returns with those cursed square foods!”

“At least you won't be drawn on.” Dib shrugged.

“Oh no, GIR already defiled my image with his arts. I found graffiti illustrated onto my abdomen earlier, which my computer claims was GIR's attempt at a ''home made wee-jee board'' – Whatever _that_ is.” Zim hissed.

“...He tried to make an ouija board with your stomach?...”

“My _Squeedily-spooch._ ” Zim corrected. “He said he wanted to speak to me but because I was dead, he needed this... ''wee-jee board''... to speak to me.”

“You were actually dead?!”

“ **Master was in a medically induced coma so that his PAK could focus on rebuilding his organic body. The injuries he arrived back to the base with were extensive.”** The computer suddenly interrupted, earning a glare from Zim.

“Oooh okay... Still doesn't explain how GIR came upon the knowledge of ouiji boards...” Dib shrugged. He slipped a bag off his shoulder and pulled out a white lab coat, “Also, _why_ are we treating these humans in your lab?”

Zim stumbled, nearly dropping test tubes that he was carrying. “I erh... didn't wish to witness your pitiful door battles! My doors are automatic, unlike your dens primitive unintelligent doors!”

Dib narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “My dad's laboratory has automatic doors.”

“Yeah well Zim didn't know this intel!” Zim protested, “Anyway, you might as well proceed here since I've already wasted my precious time setting everything up!”

The human glanced at each human, quietly looking for any form of tampering. He couldn't see anything. “Okay, fair enough. You know what we're doing right?”

Zim huffed, “Extracting disgusting human blood to identify the wolf virus, isolate it, and reverse engineer a cure from it which we will reintroduce to these inferior beings, curing them. I am not an idiot!”

“Only checking.” Dib answered. He dipped into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, sealed bag, showing it to Zim. “That night, after you killed Slab and ran off, I was found by Gaz, who rushed me to the hospital. On the way there I found this, a sample of werewolf hair, on my trench coat.”

“What's your point?” Zim raised an antenna.

“This'll help us identify the virus.”

Dib then readied seven syringes, before using one on each person, drawing a sample of their blood. He handed the samples to the Irken, who loaded them into his computer. Within minutes, all seven had been scanned, and the virus was located.

Additional scans took place to confirm the virus was connected to the werewolf, using the hair sample Dib had saved, the pair begun working on creating a cure.

Creating the cure took longer than both would've liked, and unfortunately that also meant that GIR had finished making waffles.

It was nearing two A-M when Dib injected the last human with the cure that they had finally been able to make. Dib was exhausted, sweaty, and dripping with maple syrup. A waffle was glued to the side of his head with the syrup.

While he worked, Zim had been forced to endure yet another several plates of his minion's cooking, and after he'd thrown up a total of two times, the Irken had given up trying to refuse GIR's offerings, and deactivated the pesky robot.

Currently, he was lying sprawled on the floor, his gut distended from over-eating. Bits of waffles were everywhere, some dripping with syrup. Two separate puddles of vomit were in a corner, and GIR's unconscious form was lying near Zim's feet.

Dib looked at the patients, before he turned to Zim. “You still alive?”

Zim groaned, “Barely.”

“You gonna reactivate GIR?”

“Eventually.”

Dib pouted, “Well, I'm exhausted, and you're clearly having a food baby, so returning everyone here to their homes is gonna need to wait til morning.”

“ZIM IS HAVING NO BABIES!” Zim snapped, then heaved, “Don't speak such lies!!”

“It's a phrase, you idiot. Look, I'm gonna head home, don't do anything to these people when you recover, okay? That's literally all I'm asking!”

“Zim makes no promises!”

The human frowned, “I'll buy GIR glitter.”

“You wouldn't dare-!” The Irken seethed, sitting up enough to glare at Dib.

“You know I would. Just do this one thing for me, then we can go back to attending college and kicking the shit out of each other.”

Zim flopped back onto the floor with a sigh, “FINE. Retire to your home and recharge or sleep or whatever. Do not stall on your return however, I want these beasts out of my base before they recover from their sedation!”

“I could always just crash here.” Dib shrugged.

“You will not crash my base! Begone with you!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “I didn't mean I was gonna BREAK anything, jeez.” He turned and walked out.

“Computer. Ensure the Dib-Stink _leaves_.”

Zim smirked as he heard Dib being grabbed by mechanical arms and dragged towards the exit.


	10. Return to Status Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rightful order has been restored.

Dib was up earlier than usual, Membrane noted, as he watched his son limp into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Clembrane was having an unusually quiet dispute with Foodio in the background, both clone and robot fell silent when they landed their eyes on the young Paranormal Investigator.

Dib sat at the table, finally registering the three other members of his bizarre family (ignoring the fact that Clembrane adopted himself into the family and how everyone else just went with it). He frowned when he realised they were all staring at him with varied looks of bewilderment.

“Uuhh... Good morning?...” Dib smiled nervously.

Membrane cleared his throat, “You're um... home from college?”

“Oh, yeah... Zim and I were up pretty late curing the werewolf victims. I'm gonna head over to his after breakfast and make sure everyone's fine before I give them the all clear.”

Membrane frowned at the notion Dib was still invested in the werewolf story, but he seemed to have something else on his mind, and decided to address that instead.

“I'm assuming you and your foreign friend had a few drinks too?”

“Huh?” Dib raised a brow.

Membrane circled a finger around Dib's face, “You appear to have been assaulted with a marker, or several.”

“What?” Dib gasped, shooting up from his chair and limping as fast as he could back into the bathroom.

As soon as he saw himself in the mirror his jaw dropped. Sure enough, every bit of Dib's face had long-dried marker ink on it. How he missed seeing that when he emptied his bladder not long ago was the second question on his mind. The first being how on Earth GIR managed to draw on him when he'd been deactivated!

Dib's forehead had the beginnings of a pretty picture. A smiling sun, flowers, a tree... The left side of his face was covered in random squiggly lines, a few swirls, and two badly drawn hearts on the left side of his nose. The right side of his face had a (poorly drawn) self-portrait of GIR. The little robot had also drawn on two fangs on Dib's bottom lip, and coloured the space between his eyebrows, connecting them to each other to form an unofficial monobrow.

Apparently at some point Zim had got in on the make over, because Dib found “STUPID” written in the Irken's handwriting, on his upper lip.

Dib frowned at the mirror, then begun to fill the sink.

-

GIR opened the door to a red-faced Dib. He'd spent a good half hour scrubbing furiously at his face to remove the graffiti, though his efforts only seemed to make the marker fade, and to add insult to injury, his face was now red from how hard he'd been scrubbing.

GIR pouted up at him, “You ruined my art!”

“Here's a cookie.” Dib offered it to GIR, who immediately forgot the violation of his art and accepted the cookie with glee.

“It's about time!” Zim's voice barked from the kitchen, and the Irken came strutting into the living room. “Those nasty bags of meat are starting to-BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

Dib glared as Zim clutched his sides, laughing hysterically.

“Oh Irk-!... I-!... I can't-!... My squeedlyspooch-! Hurts!” Zim collapsed onto his side on the floor, heaving for breath as he continued laughing.

“Laugh it up asshole. I'll get my revenge.” Dib stepped over the convulsing alien and approached the bin, then looked up at the ceiling. “Hey Computer, can I get access to the lab where the patients are?”

The floor opened up, offering more space for Dib (and his ridiculous growth spurt) to enter.

Zim quickly followed, though he couldn't verbally announce his displeasure at his computer's lack of loyalty, as he was still trying to regain his breath (and failing every time he glanced at Dib).

The pair entered the lab where the seven patients were, thankfully all still unconscious. A brief check at their vitals suggested that everyone was fine, and a follow up blood test confirmed the virus had been cured completely.

“I was hoping we could let them go today but it might spook them when they wake up and find they're not in their homes. I don't exactly have a good lie to tell them.” Dib frowned. He glanced at the Irken, who had his hand clamped firmly over his mouth, and was pointedly avoiding looking at the human.

Zim closed his eyes and took a slow, measured breath. As long as he didn't look, he shouldn't burst into another fit of hysterics. Feeling he was ready, he spoke.

“They'll be fine! Computer, prepare the Voot!”

“You can carry seven humans in that thing?” Dib asked.

“If I shrink them, yes.”

“ZIM, NO-”

Zim flipped a switch, and all seven humans were immediately shrunk down in size. The computer then begun to move them up to the docking bay located in the attic.

“God damnit, Zim!” Dib hissed, “What if that has a negative side effect?!”

Zim waved a hand, “It won't, don't void your bladder over it!”

He turned to smirk confidently at the human, only to end up bursting out laughing as soon as he saw Dib's face. With an aggravated huff, Dib lifted the little green fucker and threw him down a waste chute, head first.

-

Dib's car pulled up in the parking lot of the park, and the human climbed out. Grabbing his bent crutch, he limped into the park, following the coordinates to where he had arranged to meet the Irken.

After dumping Zim down a waste chute, Dib had tried to flee the lab, but his injured leg only got him so far before the Irken caught up and the two had a brief (and painful) scrap. Along with the poorly faded marker, and reddening of his face from excessive scrubbing, Dib now sported a bloodied nose, a cut above his left eyebrow, and a bald patch on the side of his head, the size of a golf ball.

He gave as good as he got. He'd slammed his crutch off of Zim's head, bending it (and one of Zim's antennae). The alien had a few scraps on his face (likely from landing on it when he was thrown down the chute), and a bruise was forming on the right side of his face.

The fight was cut short when the computer decided to lie and reported that two of the patients died.

Now, here Dib was, limping off the path and into the thick of the trees. It wasn't long until he came to a clearing, where the Irken was waiting, wearing his human disguise.

“Just as well it's still pretty early, you're taking a chance flying in the open in daylight.” Dib mused.

“It's not the first time. Thankfully your species is full of morons, people who have caught a glimpse at my Voot had passed it off as an escaped helium balloon.” Zim answered, adjusting the wig on his head. His bent antennae was tender and the annoying disguise was more irritating than usual as a result.

“Probably because it looks like a fucking balloon.” Dib muttered, earning a kick to the shin from the Irken. “Oww!”

“Close that fly trap of yours and start placing these.” He thrust several items into the human's hands.

Dib studied them for a moment, before he paled. “Wait, are these the victims?! Why are they the size of pills!?!”

“Idiot! You know why! I shrank them!”

“They weren't that small at the start!!” Dib panicked.

Zim placed his palm on his face, “Instead of doubting my amazing skills, could you just trust me and do what I say?”

Dib swallowed nervously. Part of him wanted to trust the Irken but part of him screamed that it was a huge mistake to do so. He gave in to the first voice, and placed the tiny unconscious people on the ground, spaced apart from each other.

Motioning him to stand back, Zim pressed a few commands into the keyboard of his Voot, and a telescopic arm extended from the ship. It formed a flared ending, which aimed at the seven tiny people on the ground. Dib watched as the humans were restored to their original sizes.

After the telescopic arm returned into the Voot, Zim typed in a command, then stepped back as the cruiser took off on autopilot and returned to it's base.

He dusted his hands off, “All that is left is to wake these loathsome pests.” Zim pouted. A leg extended from his PAK, and sprayed a mist into the face of each person. It retracted just as the humans begun to wake up.

“That went way easier than I thought...” Dib muttered.

The people sat up, blinking and looking around in worried confusion, before climbing to their feet.

“What happened?”

“How'd I end up out here?!”

“Where am I?”

“Ummm what's going on?”

Zim stepped forward, “FEAR NOT FELLOW EARTHLINGS!” He gestured to Dib, “My associate and I found you all sound asleep here!”

One woman raised a brow, “We all fell asleep here?”

“Yes.” Zim lied, “That's what we assume happened anyway. We just found you here.” He added with a shrug.

A man spoke, “That sounds like something I would do... I'm always dozing off in the weirdest places!”

The other humans around him agreed.

“Oh hey, I can see my house from here!” One person spoke. The rest of the group quickly reached the conclusion that they had indeed fallen asleep, and promptly left without another word.

“I'm pretty embarrassed that they BOUGHT that shit...” Dib frowned.

“You should be embarrassed!” Zim scolded, “Why your species continues to allow such degrading genes to be bred eludes my comprehension!”

The human shrugged as he made his return to the car. “Hey, don't look at me, I didn't vote for the fucking dish washer in the White House.”

“My best plan to date. I've really out done myself!” Zim beamed with pride.

Dib stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really haven't noticed?” Zim placed his hands on his hips, looking rather insulted. “It was my genius self that influenced the decision to make your Earth's leader a dish washer!”

“You did what?!”

“I'm willing to overlook the fact that you were not actually paying much attention to what I've been up to these last couple of years because your expression of absolute horror makes up for it.”

“Are you fucking shitting me?! YOU'RE the reason there's a dishwasher in the White House?!” Dib snapped.

“OF COURSE ZIM IS THE REASON!” Zim proclaimed. “I've taken down your leader by replacing them with a broken machine, leaving Earth ripe for conquest! I'm just waiting on my Tallest to return my calls so that I can let them know this planet is ready to receive the might of the Armada!!”

Dib couldn't believe what he was hearing. “...How... How did you do it?! HOW?!”

“HAH! Like I would share my secrets with you!”

“You rigged the voting system, didn't you?”

“WHO TOLD YOU?!” Zim demanded furiously.

“I'm gonna fucking kill you!!” Dib screamed, before tackling the alien to the ground. The pair rolled around in the grass, throwing punches and whatnot, before they rolled too close to a steep hill, then proceeded to tumble down it and into a thicket of thorny brambles.

-

Meanwhile, the seven people that had been cured of the werewolf virus, all suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, before they all broke off running into the city, acting like angry monkeys.

Watching them from the safety of the lab, via satellite transmission, was GIR, who was holding a remote with a single red button.

“I love this show!”

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank everyone who viewed this story and I hope you sincerely enjoyed it! Thank you guys who left feedback, kudos, critique, etc. It means more to me than I can express (I am terrible with words) but know that I appreciate you sparing some of your time to give my creations a little peek!


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